


Guys and Cars

by wingsofanillyrian



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: 1969 Charger, 2015 Audi, ACOTAR - Freeform, ACOWAR, AU in which Nesta is a gearhead and loves her car, F/M, I've invested too much time into this so please enjoy, Modern AU, Rivals to Lovers, acomaf, some smut in there too ;)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-13 11:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14111505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsofanillyrian/pseuds/wingsofanillyrian
Summary: Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.





	1. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

Music up, windows down, shades on.

That was Nesta Archeron’s summertime motto. If the sun was up and the sky was clear, you could find her on the highway, cruising along the oceanfront. The salty breeze of the Pacific called her home, the purr of her 1969 Charger’s engine was as familiar as her own heartbeat.

There were few things she loved more than her car, which she had affectionately named Bertha. Nesta cared for it, kept it clean, and fed it only the best fuels.

The only reason she’d bought the car was to piss off her good for nothing father. It had been _his_ dream car for years, and in between his drunken fits it was all he could talk about. “I’ll have that Charger one day,” he’d say before taking another swig of bourbon.

Nesta had saved every penny she’d earned from her shitty waitress job at the only grimy pub in their tiny town. The day she’d seen the ad for a mint 1969 cherry red Charger in the paper, she’d withdrawn half of her savings to pay for it and used the rest to move to the Pacific Coast.

She considered it her petty revenge.

She had never intended to keep it for very long, but she ended up loving it. The rush of adrenaline when she dropped the clutch and slammed the gas had become addictive. She took pride in the way the pearly paint shined in the warm summer sun. She relished the way her car turned heads, and absolutely _lived_ for watching men’s jaws drop when they glimpsed a woman in the driver’s seat.

Of course, there were also days that the Charger turned heads for a completely different reason.

Nesta had been roaring down famed California State Highway 1, enjoying the euphoria of the drive. It was soon dashed when the engine sputtered in an all too familiar way, floorboards shaking under her feet and tailpipe coughing black smoke. She groaned, cranking the wheel and pulling off onto the gravel shoulder just as it died completely.

“Great,” she muttered, hastily tying her chestnut waves up in a messy ponytail. “Every time I get it over 70, I swear!” Cars continued to zip by, some slowing to see what the commotion was, but never stopping, thank goodness.

 _That_ was the kind of attention Nesta didn’t like the Charger to attract. The cherry red paint job was practically a beacon saying _look at me! Look at me!_  And often times when creepy middle-aged men saw her, an attractive female, poking around under the hood, they’d stop and offer to “help” her.

Most times they really just wanted to check her out.

But she already had an inkling of what the problem could be. Black smoke indicated that the engine was running rich, burning too much fuel and flooding itself. It would work itself out in time, but she wanted to see if she could figure out a more permanent fix. She slid out of the driver’s seat to investigate her suspicions.

No sooner than she’d popped the Charger’s candy-apple red hood, a sleek black Audi pulled off ahead of her. It was hard to see much through the darkly tinted windows, but the driver was definitely male, and definitely bulky.

Nesta smirked and turned back to the engine compartment. _This should be fun._

The door of the Audi opened and closed, and she kept her eyes trained on the engine as the stranger approached. She was fully aware that he was taking his sweet time, probably checking out her ass.

Creep.

“What seems to be the problem, sweetheart?” A pair of scarred, dirty hands draped over the hood, not at all looking like the pristine manicured ones she’d been expecting from the owner of such a posh car.

Normally, she wouldn’t deign to give him a reply. But his hands weren’t those of the self-entitled executive type that usually stopped when Bertha broke down.

She took the bait.

“Black smoke from the exhaust,” she stated simply, straightening up and wiping her greasy hands on a rag as she inspected the man.

Hazel eyes stood out sharply against his bronze, California sun-kissed skin and dark shoulder length hair. She was further off-put by his modest, casual attire. Wearing cargo shorts and a muscle tee, he looked more like he should be driving a Toyota rather than the sparkling Audi he’d pulled up in.

The thousand-watt smile he gave her meant that he’d noticed her lingering attention.

“Ah, that’s never a good sign.”

“Happens quite a lot, actually. Tried a few different things, but can’t pinpoint the problem.”

He scratched his stubbled chin, frowning at the mystery. “Interesting. I’m Cassian, by the way,” he said, sticking his hand out.

“Nesta.” She shook his hand warily.

“Mind if I take a look? I know a thing or two about cars.”

Quirking a doubtful brow, she gave the dark-haired man another once over. She knew enough about cars to be dangerous herself, and she knew _her_ car even better than most others. Plus, she didn’t exactly trust just anyone off the street to be near Bertha. But in the end, she relented with a nod.

“Yeah, go ahead.” She stepped aside, letting him lean over the substantial 426 Hemi engine. As he peered and poked around, she took the opportunity to eye his Audi.

It was a few years old, a cute little hatchback that was surely quick and speedy off the line. She’d noticed that it was a manual transmission when he’d pulled over.

She grinned. It was a sport model, but not sporty enough.

Her Charger could smoke that any day.

A sizzling sound drew her attention back to the present. “Oh, to hell!” Cassian hissed, snatching his hand back from the radiator and shaking it out. He inspected the calloused flesh of his palm for burns, and finding a ripe blister, he blew out a breath through clenched teeth. “That wasn’t supposed to happen!”

This was precisely why she didn’t like letting other people near Bertha; she had a mean bite.

“You dimwit, what do you know about anything?! My little sister could’ve told you that engines get hot!”

“No shit Sherlock,” he bit out, voice dripping sarcasm as he nursed his hand. Nesta only shot him a cruel smile, stepping in front of him and effectively dismissing him.

He stayed put as she carefully reached to adjust the air filter. She smiled triumphantly when she pulled it out. Clogged with dust and dirt, just as she had predicted. She brushed out some of the dirt before replacing it and jutting her chin at the dark-haired man.

“Turn it over.”

“What?”

“Start it up,” she repeated, pointing to the driver’s seat. Cradling his burned hand to his chest, he did as she asked, the engine turning over a few times but not catching.

“I don’t think that was the problem-“

“You’ve gotta pump the clutch,” she snapped, annoyed that he was doubting her. He turned the key again, this time following her instructions. The engine roared to life with a satisfying growl, spitting and popping with renewed life.

Man, she loved being right. Nesta slammed the hood down and mockingly addressed the broody, defeated male.

“So you’re a car guy, huh?”

“Well, I _thought_ I knew cars,” he mumbled, a hint of a blush creeping into his tanned cheeks. “But it would appear that knowledge flies out the window when in the presence of a beautiful woman.”

Oh, he was a charmer.

“Or maybe you never had it to begin with.” She smirked, reaching through the open passenger window to retrieve a napkin and a pen from the glovebox. She scribbled her number on it before handing it to an astonished Cassian.

A very un-Nesta like action.

“What’s this?” Glittering hazel met steely blue in an epic matchup that made goosebumps rise on Nesta’s skin. She wanted to know more about this man; figure out what made him tick. Already she could tell that he wasn’t like anyone else she had ever met.

“You’re gonna take me on a date,” she explained, striding back to the driver’s side and climbing inside with feline grace. He stood outside his car, gaping as she slid her sunglasses back on and mouthed, _call me._

He was still trying to pick his jaw up off the ground when she peeled of the shoulder and back onto the highway.

 _Men,_ she thought with a loopy grin. _So easily impressed._


	2. Racing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated! This is an in progress work. Find more fanfiction on my tumblr, wingsofanillyrian!

Saturday nights were Nesta’s favorite.

Saturday nights were for adrenaline and the smell of burning rubber.

Saturday nights were for racing.

Nesta pulled into the repurposed warehouse parking lot on the forgotten industrial district of Velaris. All around her, engines roared and the dizzying scent of gasoline filling her lungs with each inhale. People cheered as cars raced down the strip, placing bets on a winner.

Bertha’s engine purred as she backed into a parking spot towards the end of the lot, away from the overzealous teenage crowd. They never appreciated the classic vehicles, instead opting for Subarus and Honda Civics. She fit in better with the older crowd. Turning off the car, she surveyed tonight’s competition.

There was a better turnout than in the few weeks prior. She spotted a few new vehicles she hadn’t seen before, but nothing particularly interesting. There were the usual’s too, of course: the 1973 Chevy Camaro that she had nicknamed the “Orange Peel” due to the shockingly bright paint, the 60’s Ford Mustang driven by a middle-aged coward of a man, the late 70’s Pontiac…

Tonight would be a good night.

Any driver worth their salt knew who drove the 1969 cherry red Charger. She was practically a legend among Velaris’ street scene, having beaten every car that dared challenge her.

So she wasn’t surprised at the level of attention she received as she nimbly climbed from the car. Not that she could blame the men and women for starting, she knew she looked damn good. Nesta dressed modestly on most days, usually opting for comfortable shorts and tees to deal with the dry California summers. But she became a completely different entity on race days.

Tight black denim clung to her long, lithe legs as her boots thudded on the pavement, striding around to the front of the car and popping the hood to display the inner workings. Her low-cut tank top did little to hide her generous chest, which was both a blessing and a curse. The curtain of her honey-brown hair obscured the black sports car from view as it backed in next to her classic.

Murmurs carried through the crowd at the newcomer’s arrival, probably due to the fact that they had dared invade the bubble of buffer space she had created around Bertha.

Her head whipped up to glare at the driver, ready to spit out a venomous order to move, but the words stuck in her throat. 

_What was he doing here?_

The bastard hadn’t even called her. Go figure, the one time she goes out on a limb, she ends up getting screwed. Her cheeks burned and she ducked her head under the hood, vainly hoping he wouldn’t notice her.

Nesta’s heart hammered in her chest. The sweat beginning to bead on her brow was due to more than just the stifling heat. The Audi’s door thudded shut, a throaty chuckle floating to her ears. She could almost see the cocky grin on his stubbled, tan face as he spotted her.

“Well hello there.”

She closed her eyes and collected her thoughts, plastering a sly smile on her lips.

“Hello yourself,” she purred, throwing her hair over her shoulder and batting her lashes up at the man from the highway, Cassian. “I thought I told you that you were taking me on a date?”

Hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, his angular face cast in shadow by the dim light of the streetlamps. “I was getting around to it.”

“Oh, were you?” She quirked a brow, taking a step around him and eyeing the gathering crowd. These kinds of people were drawn to the first hint of drama like moth to a flame, and Nesta intended to take advantage of that.

Cassian didn’t seem like the type to back down from a challenge.

“Brought that shitty Audi, I see,” she teased, nodding towards his spotless vehicle.

“Still driving that rotten apple, I see,” he countered, crossing his arms over his chest. The crowd around them laughed at the jab, and Nesta smirked.

“My  _rotten apple-_ “ she thumped Bertha’s grille- “Could beat that stock, blend-into-the-pavement Audi any day.”

The crowd roared at the challenge, adrenaline surging through her veins as she looked into his fiery eyes. He took two steps closer to her, leaving only a few inches of space between their bodies.

“You really wanna test that theory?”

If there was one thing Nesta Archeron knew for sure, it was that she never backed down from a challenge.

“Hell yes.”

“When and where, sweetheart?” Fire tore through her at his use of the name. Her eyes flashed and she cocked her head to the side, a predator assessing prey.

“Right here, right now.”

“Let’s race.”

***************

“Alright Bertha. We’ve done this a million times, beaten cars with ten times as many horses as his.”

Her hands gripped the steering wheel as she pulled up to the spray painted starting line. One half mile up the cracked, worn out warehouse road, there was a second line drawn between two other cars. Their drivers served as judges to settle any disputes as to who crossed it first.

It would take twenty seconds, tops, to cover that half mile.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Audi inch forward, sleek as a bullet. Through his open window, she could hear the loud screeching guitar of heavy metal pouring from the speakers. The corners of her mouth twitched upward. It would seem this man was full of surprises.

Cassian revved his engine to catch her attention.

She looked over and revved hers.

He winked, mouthing ‘ _good luck’_  and her stomach flipped at his easy confidence.

Bertha had never lost a race.

Would this be the first?

Her head snapped back to the woman standing between the opposing cars, waiting to signal the start. Nesta Archeron didn’t back down, and she didn’t lose. Not in this car.

The 426 horsepower Hemi engine in her Charger packed a powerful punch and a boatload of torque, giving her the advantage off the line versus his import. He stood a chance of catching her after the first few seconds though, if he was experienced in street racing.

She was willing to bet that he wasn’t, judging by their previous encounter.

“Ready?” The woman pointed to each of them in turn, and she and Cassian again revved their engines in response.

“Set-“

The key to winning a drag race was timing. You had to hold the clutch in while simultaneously revving the engine, building up it’s RPMs. You had to know your car, too; keep the RPM’s too high and you’d end up spinning tires when you slam the gas.

But Nesta didn’t just  _know_ Bertha. In times like this, she  _became_ the Charger. The vibrations of the chassis shot straight through her feet and rattled her bones. The pitch of the engine told her if she needed to give it more gas or less. She just  _felt it._

“GO!”

Both cars shot off the line, the roar of the massive engines piercing over the fevered roar of the spectators. Rubber squealed against pavement, the force of the sudden acceleration gluing her head to the seat. Nesta had timed it perfectly; she’d gotten a pretty solid jump on him.

She shifted into second gear.

Cassian’s Audi pulled half a car length ahead. Shit- she hadn’t accounted for his newer transmission- it could withstand higher RPMs before he was forced to shift. Her heart leapt, fearing for a moment that he would win.

But then he shifted and fumbled to recover from it.

Rookie mistake.

He slipped a full car length behind, and Nesta’s grin turned positively feral. She shifted again, closing in on the finish line. The Charger’s tires ate up the distance as Cassian nosed his way forward.

They were neck and neck.

Two seconds to the finish line.

Nesta pressed the gas pedal the final quarter inch to the floor.

The Charger and Audi shot past the two marker cars. She eased off the gas and released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. It had been too close for her to call; they would have to rely on the sharp eyes of the other racers.

Nesta peeled off, turning around to discover her fate. She parked just outside the ring of spectators, fighting her way through the throng only to find Cassian and his Audi smack dab in the middle of it.

People were shaking his hand and smacking him on the back, probably congratulating him on his supposed win. Her angry voice cut above the excited noise.

“Cassian!”

His attention immediately snapped to her, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

“Nice race,” he said, ignoring his newfound groupies and closing the distance between them in three long strides. He shoved his hands in his pockets, suddenly bashful.

Staring him down, she demanded, “Who won?”

“You did, of course.”

She grinned triumphantly, the thrill of another win taking over as she playfully punched his arm. “I knew it! Classic muscle always beats sparkling new.” Cassian tipped his head back and laughed, the sound light and joyful. Nesta found that she rather enjoyed his laugh, and wouldn’t mind hearing it more often.

She was about to say as much when a foreign hand roughly smacked her bottom. The unwelcome action instantly brought back a wave of memories that she’d rather not remember. She stood slack-jawed, frozen like a deer in the headlights.

The owner of the offending hand stepped into her line of view, the rat-faced creep raking his gaze over Nesta’s body. He whistled, low and crude.

“Hey baby, you fuck as good as you race?”

She was nearly trembling with rage, and though she would never admit it, a little bit of fear, too.

“Why don’t you fuck off?”

Cassian. Oh, thank  _god._

“I don’t think I will.” Creepy guy took a step towards Nesta. She still couldn’t move, even as his hand latched onto her arm. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest, and her wild blue eyes met Cassian’s fuming hazel.

That one look conveyed all he’d needed to see. His brow furrowed, biceps rippling as he swung. Nesta ducked instinctively, but his closed fist connected to the other man’s face with a sickening crack. He dropped instantly, moaning and cradling his most likely broken jaw.

Nesta stared down at the man, shell shocked. He turned his head, spitting crimson blood onto the gravelly pavement. If Cassian hadn’t been there, she didn’t think anyone else would have stopped him from taking what he wanted.

“Let’s get you out of here.” Cassian’s bruised, bloodied hand found the small of her back, steering her away from the scene. It had to have hurt. That bone-cracking punch couldn’t have left him completely unscathed.

“Bertha,” she croaked, desperately needing to be away from the massive crowd. This place was normally like her second home, somewhere she could be herself and let go. But now… Everything was just  _too much._

“Bertha?” He struggled to discern what she was saying. “Oh- your car.” He shouldered his way through, not stopping until she could see the cherry-red paint. He opened the driver’s side door and allowed her to slip inside before softly shutting it behind her. He peered in through the open window, concern etching sharp lines in his face.

“Are you gonna be alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” she affirmed, feeling a bit more like herself again now that she was reunited with her car. She ran her fingers over the supple leather of the steering wheel, centering her thoughts.

“I don’t know how to thank you for what you did.”

“It was nothing-“

“Let’s go for a drive.”

He tipped his head to better gauge her expression. His eyes flicked over her figure, took in her white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel and the strained set of her shoulders. Very few people were allowed near the Charger, and he had already shown her last week that he couldn’t exactly handle the heat.

But tonight… He’d earned a second chance.

He looked over his shoulder at his own vehicle with a frown. The people had dispersed, leaving it stranded and alone.

“Okay.” Nesta turned the key, the car rumbling to life as he climbed into the passenger seat. “Where to?”

“You’ll see.”


	3. Bonding (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW... Fun times ahead ;) Leave me feedback!

Nesta drove

and drove

and drove.

She took them down California Route 1, the road hugging the coast, air filled with a salty breeze of the sea. Neither she nor Cassian spoke- the silence broken only by the roar of the engine as she turned onto Mullholland Drive and flicked on her brights.

It was a road she had traveled many times before. The hairpin turns were as familiar to her as the comforting feel of the soft, supple black leather of the Charger’s interior. Her headlights cut wide swaths of white in the inky night, illuminating the sheer drop offs looming around each bend.

Rubber squealed softly on pavement as she swung around another turn, taking them higher up the ridge. Should she have slowed down? Probably. Would she? Hell no.

Speed equaled adrenaline. Adrenaline emptied her mind of anything that wasn’t here and now.

Cassian breached the silence. “I don’t think I’ve ever been out here before.” His voice was low, not wanting to puncture the fragile calm they had constructed. He must not have lived here long then. Every California native she knew had traveled this legendary road, made famous by Hollywood movies and stars.

“I come out here when I need to clear my head.” She inched off the gas so she could be heard over the engine. “The city can be so loud, sometimes I can’t think. But out here…” Gravel crunched beneath the tires as she pulled off, parking at a scenic overlook. She was acutely aware of Cassian’s gaze pinned on her, waiting to hear the rest.

“There’s nothing but peace.” She jerked her chin to the valley stretched out below them. He turned, gazing down at the bustling metropolis. It was a bowl that was the Los Angeles Basin was filled to the brim with light, evidence of the always-moving populous that inhabited it.

Nesta opened her door and stepped out into the cool night. She clamored onto Bertha’s still warm hood, leaning back against the windshield. Cassian joined her moments later, pillowing his arm under his head. His eyes slid shut and he sighed, the perfect picture of contentment.

There weren’t any stars here; they were still too close for the city for that. But the moon hung low and full in the sky, bathing Cassian in it’s soft, white light. She studied his face, noting the scar that cut through his left eyebrow and the prominent Cupid’s bow above his lip. Sometime on the way here, he’d pulled his hair back into a messy bun, a few stray curls framing his tanned face.

He turned to her as if sensing her stare, hazel eyes alight with intensity. Those eyes brought forth a million questions in her mind.

Why had he stopped that day on the highway? Why hadn’t he called her? Why did he save her tonight?

Gazes still locked, he whispered, “Beautiful.”

She didn’t know if he was taking about her or the view.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.

Ducking her head, she trained her attention back on the valley. A breeze wove through the dry desert grasses, whispering to her of a different time and place. She shivered, her tank top doing little to ward off the chill of the California night.

“The lights of the city remind me of the stars I could see from my hometown.”

“And where might that be?” The car’s suspension groaned as he shifted a few inches closer to her, silently offering his heat. His arm lay on the glossy red hood, barely a hairs breadth from her own.

“A tiny, dinky little town in southern Colorado.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled her knees to her chest. “My father was a drunk; never did anything to take care of my sisters and I after my mom died. I did what I could, I worked and saved half my paycheck and spent the rest on my youngest sister, Elain. My middle sister, Feyre, is so independent. She worked her ass off to put food on our table for years. If it weren’t for her, I don’t know how we would have survived.”

His fingers brushed hers in recognition of her words. He hadn’t asked, but he wouldn’t stop her from telling. Her past came crashing out of her like a raging river, breaking through every dam she had carefully built within herself.

“My dad- before he was a drunk- always used to talk about how he dreamed of having a ’69 Charger. He filled my head with stories of epic races and near-mythical drivers. He built a little model Charger that he kept in his study- painted it cherry red. I always thought I would help him fulfill that dream one day.”

“But when my mom died-“ Nesta gulped, checking her emotions. She needed to get this out. “When she died… He found relief at the bottom of a bottle. He was verbally abusive, refused to go out and get a job… It was bad.”

“And then I found Bertha.” She patted the hood affectionately, a small smile creeping onto her face. “She wasn’t in the best of shape when I bought her-all dented up and the motor didn’t run-but I fixed ‘er up and left that hellhole the day I turned 18.”

Cassian was quiet for a few heartbeats, and for a brief moment, she was afraid he’d fallen asleep. She stared out over the LA lights, determined to keep the tears at bay. But then his hand engulfed hers, squeezing lightly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Chirping crickets and the scurrying of nocturnal animals filled the empty space. Nesta hadn’t told anyone here about the life she’d left behind. It felt good to get it off her chest, but at the same time, she felt as if she had simply moved the burden from her shoulders to Cassian’s.

But it wasn’t his burden to bear.

Her gaze dipped to their hands, and she started at the unexpected sight of blood coating his knuckles.

“Cassian- your hand.” He’d gotten hurt standing up for her. A cold stone of guilt settled in the pit of her stomach.

“What, this?” He held their hands up in the moonlight, inspecting the cut and bruised knuckles. “This is nothing. I’ve had much worse, trust me.”

She was reminded of the scar at his eyebrow, as well as the ones she now noticed crisscrossing over his arms. The thin white lines stood out in sharp contrast against the tan canvas of his skin. 

He’d gone through rough times of his own, she was sure. But the sheer number of scars he possessed coupled with the proud way he wore them made her wonder what they were from. It was clear that he could endure the pain of a few minor cuts.

But the marks on his knuckles were different. They were because of  _her._

The warmth of his skin and the metallic scent of dried blood must have clouded her mind, causing her to act without thinking. Slowly, she raised his hand to her lips and ghosted kisses along his bloody knuckles. His pulse rose to a fever-pitch beneath her fingers, but he remained perfectly still.

She lowered his hand back to the hood.

“What was that for?” He rasped, cradling his hand to his chest. Nesta could still feel the impression of the knuckles like a brand on her lips, forever ingrained in her mind.

“I don’t know. You got hurt because of me.” She met his gaze, his expression guarded and confused. “And I didn’t want it to-“

Cassian surged forward, crashing his lips to hers. Her instincts screamed to shove him off- _he’ll hurt you-_  but she fought against them. She was stunned, to say the least, but when his hand came up to cradle her cheek like it was the most precious thing in the world, she melted into the kiss.

Taking it one step further, she darted her tongue over his bottom lip. He groaned, the sound reverberating through her bones and straight to her core. He opened his mouth to her and wholly yielded himself to her will. 

Her tongue explored the inside of his mouth, lapping up his sweet moans like honey. His teeth tugged gently at her lower lip, her insides turning to jelly. Tangling her fingers in his thick, dark curls, she swung her leg over his hips to straddle his waist, pushing him back against the windshield.

She fumbled with his belt, furiously trying to undo the buckle. “Wait,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye. He was breathing hard, his pupils dilated with desire. But even still, he forced himself to pause.

“Is this really what you want?” His eyes softened, searching her face for any sign of apprehension or regret. She didn’t know what to make of this. The only other person she’d been intimate had always just taken what he wanted with no regard for what she thought.

When she didn’t respond he continued, “I saw your face tonight, when that prick said what he did.”

Oh. Right. When she was frozen with fear, the memories of another boy in another town hundreds of miles away clanging around in her skull. One that had stripped away her choices, reduced her to a plaything for his own desires. That had been five years ago, and she hadn’t so much as touched another man since.

Never again, she had vowed.

But maybe it was time to break that vow.

“I’m absolutely sure this is what I want.” Was she crazy? She knew next to nothing about Cassian. But he had shown her kindness and compassion when no one else had in years. He was the burning match that had restarted the fire within her. He was the one that was teaching her what it felt like to be wanted.

“The moment you want to stop, I’ll stop.” His eyes dipped to her lips, already leaning closer. “Just say the word.”

“Okay.”

Their lips met with more fervor that before, and instead of cupping her cheek, his hands found the hem of her tank top. They glided beneath the thin cotton, his callouses softly scraping the skin of her stomach.

His mouth moved to her neck, trailing kisses down her throat and across her collarbone. Softly, as if testing the waters, he bit down on the skin over the bone, dragging a moan from her lips.

“Oh, Cass!”

Fingers tugged on the hem of his shirt, silently pleading for it to come off. He sat forward just enough to pull it over his head, tossing it onto the roof of the Charger. Nesta sat back and allowed herself to drink in every rippling muscle. The man looked like he’d been carved from marble; not an inch of his chiseled torso was undefined.

He stretched out his hand to pull her back to him, but Nesta hopped off the hood. His previous look of lust was gone in seconds, replaced by one of concern.

“I’m sorry if I pushed too far-“

“Come on,” she growled, yanking on his arm. Curiosity coated his features but he did as she asked, his booted feet hitting the ground as he slid off the hood. She was on him immediately, fingertips memorizing the feel of his skin as they made their way to the front of his jeans.

His lips found her neck once more, nipping and sucking at the fragile skin. She threw her head back, granting him easier access.

“Inside,” she gasped, fumbling for the door handle. She ripped it open, pushing him down into the passenger seat. Her own tank top joined his shirt on the roof before she settled herself in his lap.

“I want you,” she murmured, dragging her hands over his bare chest. Judging by the feeling of his hardened length against her thigh, he wanted her, too.

His grip on her waist tightened. “Are you sure?”

Cassian wasn’t like Tomas. He’d already proved that earlier tonight, by defending her when she was unable to do so herself, and by putting her needs before his own.

“Yes,” she breathed, “I’ve never been so sure of anything.”

The remainder of their clothing became a heap on the floorboards, the two shimmying out of pants and undergarments in a hurry. Then Cassian was wearing only a halo of white moonlight, a muscle in his strong jaw twitching as he admired every curve of Nesta’s lithe frame. She rocked her hips against his thigh as she watched him rip open the tiny foil packet and roll the condom on.

“Just say the word,” he reminded her, gently grasping her waist. She nodded to show she understood, her hands cupping his stubbled cheeks as she braced herself over him.

Their eyes locked as she guided him into her, slowly taking him inch by agonizing inch. She hissed as he was seated to the hilt, fingers digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to the feel of him. Then she rolled her hips, eliciting a gasp from him as he threw his head back against the seat.

A chorus of moans and pants filled the still night air as they found their rhythm. His hands roamed her body, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of her hips one moment and palming her breast the next.

They were in perfect sync, somehow already in tune to the other’s desires. Cassian’s thumb discovered the knot between her thighs, sending her cascading through an ocean of pleasure within moments. Wave after delicious wave of pleasure hit her, every nerve alight with it.

He followed her moments after, crying her name for all to hear. Nesta slid off his lap, finding her clothes from the floor and sliding back into them. Cassian watched her the entire time, as if she were the most beautiful being he had ever seen. She clamored over to the driver’s seat, giving him room so he could dress.

Running a hand through her disheveled golden hair, she pondered what would happen next. Would he call her? She doubted it, seeing as he hadn’t called her before, and now that they’d hooked up… She was  _sure_  he wouldn’t.

As if sensing her thoughts, he murmured, “I’m not a ‘one and done’ kinda guy.”

Nesta retrieved their shirts from outside, tossing him his. “I hope not.”

Not wanting to dwell on her thoughts, she turned the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled to life, and Cassian watched her with concerned eyes as she peeled back out onto Mullholland Drive.

Neither spoke for the remainder of the drive back to the abandoned warehouse lot. Cassian’s spotless Audi reflected the glare of the rising sun directly into Nesta’s eyes as she pulled up next to it.

“I promise I’ll call.” His voice was laced with pain, but she had no idea what caused it. Certainly not her; not this time. She stared straight ahead, determined not to let her emotions boil over.

“Okay.”

He leaned across the gearshift, hesitating inches away from her face. She was hyper aware of his breath on her neck, tickling the tiny hairs.

“Thanks for the drive,” he murmured, then pressed his lips to her cheek. The simple touch struck her deeper than she would ever admit. Her hands tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel, but she didn’t respond.

 _Cassian isn’t Tomas,_ she reminded herself.  _He’ll call, he’ll call, he’ll-_

She flinched as a car door slammed, and she realized with a start that he’d gotten into his own. The Audi purred to life, the windows tinted too dark to see the driver. It idled for a few moments before driving away.

Nesta watched him go until his taillights were nothing but tiny red dots in the dim light of dawn.


	4. Dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated!

Nesta’s phone buzzed in her pocket, but she didn’t have time to look at it. It was the dinner rush at the diner she worked at, and two of the other servers had called out. She was on her own, serving the entire packed, twenty-table place by herself. She ran from kitchen to table, carrying drinks and plates back and forth in a whirlwind.

The cacophony of frying food and clinking silverware and chatty customers drowned out her thoughts. It was really the only reason why she tolerated the job. She didn’t like the clientele, with there too often greedy hands and rude remarks. She didn’t get paid nearly enough for what she put up with, but it was a job nonetheless.

When it finally calmed down enough around 7, she had the chance to sit and rest her aching feet. Remembering the earlier call, he pulled out her phone to check her notifications. It showed a missed call from a number she didn’t recognize. The caller had left a voicemail however, and she let herself out the diner’s back door to listen.

It was still bright enough to see without flipping on the lights, the fading sun bathing the alleyway in an orange glow. The pavement was dotted with potholes, filled with brownish water from the morning’s storm. Checking to make sure no one was lurking around, she played the message.

_Hey Nesta, it’s Cassian._

The throaty rumble of his voice brought a loopy smile to her face.

_Listen, I’ve been thinking about what happened the other night. After our race?_

There was a pause, and her stomach sunk. Was he fulfilling his promise to call only to say he never wanted to see her again? Biting her lip, she cradled the phone more delicately to her ear.

_I wanna take you out sometime. Give me a call and let me know what your schedule looks like, yeah?_

There was muffled yelling in the background of the voicemail. She frowned, trying to decipher the incoherent sounds.

Cassian’s voice rose above the noise: _Look, I gotta go. Give me a call whenever._

The message ended with a distinctive *click.* Nesta allowed herself a moment to rejoice in the fact that he’d actually _called_ before typing out a text message. Even though he’d told her it was okay to call, she didn’t want to disturb him if he was busy.

_Got your voicemail. I’m working at the diner right now, call you later?_

Her finger hovered over the send button as her heart hammered. She was mentally listing all the ways the message could blow back in her face when the diner’s door flung open. The manager, a short, bald, beady-eyed man, peered around the damp alleyway.

“There you are!” His voice was raspy, coated with a thick east-coast accent. “Get your ass back in here, will ya? We’ve got three parties waitin’ to be seated!”

“I’ll be right there, Ralph!” She gave him her fake ‘customer service’ smile, which seemed to satisfy him enough. He retreated back inside with a huff, leaving Nesta to her decision.

“Here goes nothing.” She tapped send and scrambled back inside.

***************

Nesta had finally made it home just after midnight. Exhausted, she didn’t even bother changing out of her dumb uniform before collapsing into bed. She checked her phone one more time, hoping in vain to see a message from Cassian.

But there hadn’t been one, and she’d fallen asleep quickly.

The following day was her only day off that week, so Nesta had treated herself by sleeping in until ten. Which was apparently a mistake, because the text she woke up to was from 6:08 am.

_Hey, sorry I haven’t responded. Got caught up with a few things.  I’ve got a few minutes now if you wanna talk._

Considering her options, Nesta brewed a pot of coffee and stared at the message. Then she made herself some scrambled eggs and pondered the message some more. She washed the dishes in the sink, reading the message three more times before tapping out a response.

_Sorry, just woke up. Still free?_

She set the phone on the counter, expecting to be left hanging again. She was pleasantly surprised, however, when it rang only a few moments later. She let it ring four times before answering with her sweetest voice.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart.” The easy confidence coating his voice brought a blush to her cheeks, even though she resented the name.

“I’m not your sweetheart.”

There was a pause before he said, “You’re right, I shouldn’t assume things. Is it acceptable for me to call you ma’am?” He said it regally, as if addressing a queen. The humor made her giggle, though she furiously tried to stifle it.

“That’s definitely worse. I feel like I’m your grandma or something!”

“Oh, believe me, you’re nothing like her. You’re _much_ more interesting.”

Nesta laughed again, the sound bubbling out of her like a fountain. Her cheeks ached from the huge grin spread across her face.

“Well I’m glad to hear-“

_“Get off that phone!”_

Her brow furrowed at the scratchy voice flowing from the other end of the phone. “Cass? Everything alright?”

“Um, yeah everything’s just fine. I’m really sorry, but I gotta go-“

“ _I said hang up the gods-damned phone and get back here!”_

Whoever he was with was not happy. Nesta’s heart sank, wishing for a few more minutes to talk. She opened her mouth to say so, but was promptly cut off.

“I’ll text you.” The call ended, and she stared at her phone, dumbfounded. Honestly, what had she expected? It wasn’t like she hadn’t been treated this way before. The men she had been with had only called or texted when it was convenient for them.

But Cassian wasn’t supposed to be like the others.

Maybe she was kidding herself. It was possible that he’d only stepped in that night after their race to make himself look like a hero. Because in the end, doesn’t the hero always get the girl?

Not in this story, she decided. Tossing her phone to the couch, she picked up a book and lost herself in the contents.

***************

Despite the promises she made to herself, Nesta found herself checking her phone for messages throughout the day. The sun had set below the horizon, and she had yet to leave the cozy cove that was her apartment.

Sighing as she flipped the last page of her book, she shut it with the satisfying _thump._ A glance at the clock on the stove told her it was 10 pm. It had been eleven hours since Cassian had hung up on her, and still not a word.

She uncoiled to her feet and stretched, back arched like a cat. Drowsy from a day chock full of reading, she scooped up her phone and headed to her room. She plugged it into the charger by her nightstand, opening up their messages.

 _Goodnight_ , she sent.

Five minutes passed without a reply. She set the phone down, crawling under the covers. She wouldn’t let his non-response bother her.

But she still stared at the black screen until it lit up.

_Sorry I’ve been so MIA. Goodnight, talk to you tomorrow._

She sat up, hugging the blanket tighter.

_Where have you been all day?_

_Working._ She glanced at the clock; it was almost midnight. Damn, he worked long days. If he wasn’t lying.

_For twelve hours?_

_Yeah. My job is kinda… involved._

_Oh, is that so? And where do you work?_

He didn’t reply immediately. Either he was writing her a book of his own, or he was floundering for words.

_I’d rather not say._

She didn’t know why that bothered her, but it did. More than she cared to admit. It wasn’t like they were a couple. Yes, they’d hooked up, but maybe he preferred it to stay that way. Purely physical, nothing emotional. Nesta frowned, but decided not to push the issue.

_Okay, well I hope you have a good rest of your night. I’m going to sleep._

_Goodnight, Nesta._

***************

“Enjoy your meal.” Nesta set the plates in front of the family of four, smiling lightly as she did so. Sometimes, it feels like all she did was work. She was at the run-down hole in the wall diner six days a week, eight hours at a crack.

At least it wasn’t busy today. Her phone buzzed and she glanced around, instinctively scanning for her boss before checking it.

_So about that date… How about tonight at 9?_

She quirked a brow and glanced at the clock.

_As in two hours from now? I’m at work._

_Aw, cmon, can’t you get someone to cover for you?_

He did have a point… Glancing around the diner, she took a mental inventory of who was currently here. She could ask Jenny to stay a few extra hours, but she had a small son to get home to. There was June, but she never agreed to stay late. And Greg was gone on vacation, Hailey was already maxed out for hours this week…

_No I really don’t think I can._

_Damn. Alright. I guess we’ll have to figure something else out then._

Deciding that wrapped up the conversation, she slipped her phone into her apron pocket and got back to work. It was a Friday, so it wasn’t too incredibly busy. Most people were out barhopping or partying. The next three hours of her shift passed quickly and without incident.

The bells tied to the door alerted her to an incoming customer, and Nesta launched into her automatic greeting.

“Welcome to Empire Diner, how many?” Her hand hovered over the stack of menus, not bothering to look at the new party. It was 10 o’clock, one hour until they closed. She hated when people came in this late. They usually were rowdy teenagers who left a mess and refused to leave until after close.

“Just one.”

She started at the voice, her blonde ponytail slicing through the air as she whirled. “Cassian? How did you know I was here?”

He shrugged, tucking his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. “Not too many cherry red Chargers driving around the area.” He grinned as Nesta led him to a corner booth, away from the other patrons. “Even easier when you factor in that you work at a diner.” He slid into the booth, casually throwing an arm over the back of the bench.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” She awkwardly patted down a few flyaway hairs, suddenly conscious of her appearance. “I probably look like a mess.”

“A hot mess,” he countered, flipping through the menu. Heat creeped to her cheeks, and she fiddled with her notepad. His eyes glittered as he watched her fidget, enjoying her unease. “Love the uniform.”

She glanced down the pastel blue and white striped monstrosity. It was far too baggy on her avian frame, and the collar itched her neck. She hated the dumb thing, preferring her usual jeans and tee over it anyday.

“ I hate it.” Cassian cracked a smile, and her stomach flipped. “Do you know what you’d like to eat?” She met his amused hazel stare.

“Surprise me.”

She nodded, flashing him a smile as she strode back to the kitchen to put his order in. Using her no-nonsense personality, she got June to agree to serve her tables for the remainder of the night. The diner was almost empty anyway, only a few regular customers scattered throughout.

She returned to Cassian’s table ten minutes later, carrying two chipped ceramic plates heaped with food.

“Order up,” she said, setting them in front of the ravenous-looking man. He quirked a brow, leaning back and running a hand through his dark hair.

“Grilled cheese and fries? Really?”

“Hey, it’s what we’re known for.” She pointed to the sign in the window that read ‘ _Award winning Ultimate grilled cheese served here!’_

“Ah, I see.” He examined the orange cheese oozing out the sides of the sandwich, sniffing it cautiously. Nesta chuckled and seated herself across from him.

“What’s this? I thought you had to work?” Nesta noted the undercurrent of excitement running through the words.

She shrugged, “I bullied another server into covering my tables.” She snatched the cheesy slice from his hand and took a huge bite. After deeming the melt safe to eat, Cassian dug in and let out a groan.

“Oh, God, this is amazing.”

“Like heaven on Earth,” she said, popping a French fry into her mouth. He ducked his head forward for another bite, smearing the ends of his hair through the ketchup on his plate.

“Shit,” he mumbled, wiping it off with a napkin. “I’m such a klutz, I swear.” Nesta laughed, and he glared playfully as he removed a leather band from his wrist. She watched as he pulled his unruly curls into bun at the base of his neck. His corded forearms rippled as he did so, and Nesta unwittingly licked her lips.

“See something you like?” He flexed for her benefit, and her breath caught in her throat. He was… Impressively muscled, to say the least. And her enchanted stare was probably fueling his already big ego. She cleared her throat, changing the subject.

“You gonna finish yours?” She jerked her chin to the unfinished half of his sandwich.

“Hell yeah, I’m gonna finish it!” He pulled the plate towards him protectively.

“Then you better hurry up before I do!” She reached across, managing to snag a single fry. He gasped, the betrayal written plainly on his face.

“How dare you! My poor, precious fry!”

She rolled her eyes, dipping it in his ketchup before eating it. Scowling, he quickly shoveled the remaining part of his sandwich into his mouth, and Nesta laughed again.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so light. Sure, she felt free as a bird when she was racing down the highway in Bertha, but that wasn’t the same as sharing joyful laughter with another living, breathing human.

Come to think of it, when _was_ the last time she had laughed like this? She’d isolated herself when she moved to California, and didn’t bother to make any real friends. All she thought she’d need was Bertha and the ocean.

But… she found herself wanting to hear Cassian’s laugh more. It made her heart skip a beat, the way he threw his head back when she made some snide remark about her boss or one of the customers. When she was with him, there was a smile permanently adhered to her face.

They talked and ate until the diner closed and Ralph kicked them out. He grumbled something about the two being worse than the teenagers, and the couple burst into laughter once more. They lingered on the sidewalk, Cassian’s Audi gleaming in the light of the full moon.

“I’ll walk you to the car,” he said, offering her his elbow. She accepted it graciously, wrapping her slender fingers around his tattooed bicep. Dark, spiraling whorls wove around it, the pattern enchanting and mysterious. She wondered what they meant to him. Noticing her stare, he tugged the sleeve of his blue cotton shirt farther down, hiding the ink from view.

Something personal, then. She averted her eyes, instead gazing up at his stubbled chin.

“I’m glad you stopped by,” Nesta murmured, the gravel parking lot crunching under her shoes. He looked at her and smiled. It was soft and sweet, and caused his eyes to crinkle in the most adorable way.

“So am I.” Pausing as they reached the Charger, Cassian took her hand. He smiled again and butterflies flitted around in her stomach. The moon hung low over the ocean, a stray breeze blowing a lock of hair across her face. He reached up without hesitation and tucked it back behind her ear.

Nesta was acutely aware of the way his fingers lingered at her jaw. Holding his stare, she pushed her cheek against his palm. His thumb brushed over her freckled cheekbone, her heart speeding up.

Before she could think about the possible consequences, she rose up on her tiptoes and briefly pressed her lips to his. Even the slight brush of his lips on hers had every nerve in her body tingling, begging for more. Reminding her of that night last week, out on Mulholland Drive.

She studied his face afterwards for any adverse reaction, but found only curiosity and longing. The hand still holding hers squeezed lightly before he pulled her into a hug. He smelled like cinnamon and sandalwood; a comforting, homey scent. His breath tickled her scalp, but she was surprised to find that she didn’t mind.

“Goodnight, Nesta.” He stepped from her embrace, hands sliding into his pockets. “Let me know if you’d like me to take you on a proper date sometime.” Turning on his heel, he strode across the lot to his own car.

“I’d like that!” She called to his retreating figure, silhouetted in the moonlight. He gave her a thumbs up over his broad shoulder, and she slunk into her car. Pulling out her phone, she sent him a quick text.

_You’re welcome for dinner, by the way. Next time, you’re paying._

Her eyes flicked up across the dash as the Audi purred to life, and he flashed his headlights at her in farewell.

_Yes ma’am._


	5. The Truth Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated, as always!

They’d been seeing each other for a few weeks. Cassian had been the perfect gentleman, picking her up for dates and opening doors for her everywhere they went. He took her somewhere new each night, places like car shows hidden deep in the California desert and county fairs in little backwater towns. He spared no expense either; it had taken him more than twenty tries to win her the giant stuffed bear that now shared her bed.

They hadn’t hooked up since that first night though, and Nesta appreciated that Cassian hadn’t pushed the issue. But they hadn’t really defined what was going on between them, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

She couldn’t deny that they had chemistry. She and Cassian got along like the best of friends and had plenty of similar interests. Walks on the beach, classic movies, cars… The list went on and on. Since the night on the ridge, she had felt connected to him in some way. He was the only one she had allowed herself to open up to.

But despite that, he hadn’t told her anything about himself. She had insisted multiple times that they go to his place, but each time he’d had some half-ass excuse, like the house wasn’t clean. She didn’t know what he did for a living, but he did have black grease under his fingernails some nights.

It wasn’t that she minded that he had secrets. She couldn’t blame him, there was plenty that she didn’t share with him either. But she just wanted _something-_ one small detail of his life that told her she was making the right choice.

Because Nesta was completely, undeniably falling for him. He had charmed her with his dazzling smile that made her stomach do summersaults, his beautiful curls that she loved to run her fingers through, and his breezy, carefree laugh. Cassian made her feel like her old self again; the person she had been before her mother had died and the world had gone to shit.

She’d never been in love before, but she had a feeling she was going to be very soon. The only thing holding her back was his mysterious concealment of his personal life.

And she wouldn’t allow herself to get hurt again.

***************

Nesta had invited him over for dinner one night after work. She’d had a day shift, and had gotten home around 7. Her back ached from being on her feet all day, and she winced as she stirred the noodles on the stove. Headlights cut through the kitchen window, alerting her to Cassian’s arrival.

 A knock sounded on the door a few moments later. “It’s open!” She called, wiping her hands on her apron. She glanced over as Cassian stepped inside, politely slipping off his shoes. Her gaze swept over him, appreciating the dark denim jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and the equally fitted black tee that accented his toned forearms.

“Hey,” he said, a grin splitting his face as he joined her at the stove. “What are we having tonight?” He scratched his stubbly chin. He was usually clean-shaven, but Nesta had mentioned the previous night that she liked a man with a bit of scruff on his jaw. It would seem he’d taken note of that remark, and she smiled to herself.

“Just some mac and cheese,” she said, stirring in the milk, butter and cheese. “I wasn’t exactly in the mood to make a three-course meal.” He laughed, placing a quick kiss to her cheek that made her stomach flip. The gesture was casual, yet strangely intimate.

“Long day at the diner, huh?” He poured himself a glass of milk from the fridge and took a seat at the oak table. Over the past few weeks, he had become comfortable in her home, which was part of what urged Nesta to define their relationship.

“Rough day.” She spooned noodles into two bowls, whisking them to the table where he sat and taking her place next to him. “People were cranky today. I had three middle aged women yell at me because their orders were wrong.”

“Those soccer moms, I tell ya.” Cassian smirked, fingers linked behind his head as he leaned back in his chair. Nesta allowed her eyes to wander over his well-defined forearms for a moment before returning his grin.

“One grumpy old lady almost threw her soup at me.”

“Glad you escaped scalding,” he joked, blowing on the hot food before digging in. She watched as he did so, mulling over her earlier thoughts. She didn’t want to blindside him and ultimately end up scaring him away. She had to be tactful; bide her time and find the right moment.

“What’s up?” Cassian wiped his cheesy mouth with a napkin, tipping his head inquisitively. “You’re staring.”

Apparently, the right moment was now. Damn him for being so observant.

 _Just ask,_ she urged herself, and set down her spoon. She stared at the noodles in her bowl, phrasing and rephrasing what she needed to say.

“Cassian… I have a question for you.” Suddenly serious, he pushed his food away and leaned forward on his elbows. He fiddled with the hem of her shirt, staring at her lap.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice soft as silk. “Go ahead and ask, I won’t run away.”

How was he able to read her so well? How did he always seem to know exactly what she was thinking?

Nesta took a deep breath. “What _are_ we?” She finally met his stare, finding a mixture of emotions on his face. He frowned at her wobbling lip.

“I was under the impression that we were together,” he said, brows drawing together. “Unless you thought differently-“

“No, that’s what I thought too. It’s just-“ She cut herself off, shaking her head. Gods, this was stupid. They’d gone on five or six dates in the past few weeks, of _course_ they were dating. If he had wanted nothing more than to be friends, they wouldn’t have spent Saturday night making out on the hood of her Charger at the lookout spot on Mullholland Drive.

“Just what?” Cassian reached across the table, capturing her hand. “You can tell me.”

She bit her lip. “I feel like I don’t know anything about you.” Her eyes snagged on the exposed black whorls adorning his upper arm, made visible when he’d leaned forward.

“Of course you know me,” he said, corners of his mouth twitching upward. “You know that my family is out east, I’ve told you all the embarrassing stories of my childhood… What’s left to know?” The nervous way he pushed a hand through his hair told her that he knew exactly what she meant.

“Cassian…” She fixed her gaze on their clasped hands. His thumb idly traced soothing circles on hers. She didn’t know why, but anger began to bubble in her veins. It wasn’t like she was being unreasonable. Normal couples shared things about their lives, did they not?

The pent-up words poured out of her in a rush. “I don’t even know your last name. I don’t know where you live, you won’t tell me what your tattoos mean- hell, I don’t even know where you work! You refuse to tell me any intimate details of your life, meanwhile you know _everything_ about mine.”

Tears welled in her eyes as silence stretched between them. Her worst fears were rising to the surface, and her hand shook as she pulled it from his grasp. She could see him withdrawing too, donning his armor to keep his true self protected and hidden from view.

“Just- just tell me this. Are you married?” He looked up at her, bewildered. “Is that why you won’t tell me anything?” He tried to speak, but she pushed on as the tears fell in earnest. “If it is, just tell me now so my heart doesn’t have to break any more than it already has.”

The chair squeaked against the hardwood floor as he got up to stand next to her. He crouched down, desperately trying to meet her teary gaze as he placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Look at me, Nes. Please.”

Sniffling, she obliged him. “I am _not_ married, I swear.” Nesta simply nodded, chin trembling from the effort of staving off her sobs. “As far as my last name… It’s Valle.” She wiped her eyes, relief flooding through her at the admission.

“And your job? Tattoos?” She croaked, refusing to back down.

“Look, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you.” He rocked back on his heels, dragging his fingers through his disheveled locks. His reaction intrigued her, and she shifted to face him fully. She was still hurting, but she didn’t like seeing him so distraught. Her brow furrowed and she ghosted her fingers over his arm.

“Cass,” she said, “you can tell me.” He blew out a sharp breath and scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Promise you’ll hear me out?” Worry swirled in his hazel eyes as he beseeched her.

Nesta nodded, although dread coiled in her gut.

“What if I told you that I…” His eyes flicked around the room. She squeezed his hand, encouraging him to continue. He closed his eyes and gulped, “I run a chop shop.”

He was joking. He had to be. Not knowing what else to do, Nesta burst into laughter. Cassian’s gaze fell to the floor, shoulders curling inward in shame.

“I’ll go,” he whispered, uncoiling to his feet and turning towards the door. Nesta’s cheeks burned as she tried to stifle her laughter. She choked it back, pressing her palm to her temple.

“No no, wait!” He paused, but kept his back towards her. “You’re not… Serious, are you?”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and nodded as he faced her. “Yeah, I’m serious. I’ve got two brothers- adopted. The three of us plan heists and jack cars, and then I part them out at my shop.” He toed the frayed corner of the welcome mat.

Silence filled the air as his words settled in the air between them. Cassian, her supposed knight in shining armor, stole and parted out cars. Well, that certainly explained how he was able to take her on such grand dates and afford a luxury car at such a young age.

“A chop shop?” She clarified, disbelief causing her voice to hitch at the end.

“Yep.” He tugged down his sleeve, hiding the mysterious ink from view. “That’s why I’m gone so long some days. Lining up hits and coordinating with my guys.”

“So you’re a criminal.” Ice crept into her voice and he flinched. Nesta prided herself on his hurt. He damn well should be ashamed. He’d led her on; made her think he was some gods-damned hero when clearly, he wasn’t.

“Yes Nesta, I’m a fucking criminal.” He met her gaze with fiery hazel, face set in stone. He wouldn’t allow her to humiliate him. “That’s why you can’t come to my house; for your own safety, in case something were to happen. That’s why I didn’t want you to know my last name, just in case you were an undercover agent.”

Her anger dissipated in a split second, replaced by pure shock. She stumbled back a step, splaying a hand on the table for support. “You think I was _investigating_ you?” This was her worst nightmare. She knew what it felt like to be used. It was not something she wanted Cassian to feel, no matter what the circumstances were.

She cared about him too much, despite everything.

“How the hell would I know?” His voice rose, along with the tension between them. He stepped forward, breaking into her personal space. “You could have been anyone- a hot chick conveniently broken down along the highway I drive to the shop every day? It could’ve been a set up for all I knew!”

She flinched instinctively as he yelled, curling in on herself. He retreated instantly, shaking his head. Nesta wiped away the salty tears, jutting her chin out as she faced him.

“I suppose you think I was just pretending to love you too, huh?”

You could have heard a pin drop. Cassian’s face drained of color, jaw going slack as he fumbled for words.

“You- you-“

“Yes, you fucking idiot.” She laughed, the sound cruel and harsh even to her own ears. “You heard what I said.” Nesta Archeron was in love with a thief and a liar; a man who had accepted her taped-together heart and smashed it into unfixable pieces. She stared him down as he approached once more, holding his hands out, palms up.

“Nes, I didn’t know- let me explain-“ He struggled for words, desperate to remedy the situation. But their relationship- or whatever it had been between them- was already damaged beyond repair.

“I think you should leave.” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to stop him in his tracks.

“What?”

“I said _leave,_ you insufferable bastard!” She spat, saltwater tracing down her cheeks. The glare she shot him held every bit of fury and contempt she felt towards him. “I trusted you! I let you break down my walls, I let you see my scars and what did you do? You stomped on my gods-damned heart!”

“No, Nesta, you don’t understand!” He fell to his knees, groveling at her feet. “I’m getting out of the business, just one more job-“

“It’s always gonna be ‘just one more job,’ Cassian. I know how these things work.” She sank into her chair, hanging her head in her hands. “It’s an addiction; the way it gets your blood pumping. You’ll never be able to stop.”

“But I will,” he insisted, voice cracking. “I swear on my life Nesta, I will.”

But she knew he wouldn’t. Tommy had said the same thing when he’d turned to drugs. It changed him, and she had given that boy too many chances. She wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.

“You need to leave,” she said, without deigning to look at him. “Now.” She heard him sniffle as he stood. Good, let him cry.

“I’ll call you,” he whispered, slipping on his designer shoes. Honestly, how had she not known? Expensive car, expensive wardrobe… All signs pointed to something illegal. No way in hell did a twenty-three-year-old man make that much money in traditional, _legal_ ways.

“Don’t bother.”

The door clicked shut as he exited.

She listened for the purr of his Audi before she stood, snatching the Charger’s keys from the counter, not bothering with shoes as she ripped open the front door.  She needed to get away from everything, clear her head before she did something stupid. She flew down the porch steps, ripping open Bertha’s door and slamming the key into the ignition.

The engine roared to life, the sound instantly soothing her heart. Her car was the one thing that would never betray her. She could always turn to it, finding it waiting for her in her time of need. It wouldn’t balk at her tears or hurt her. The Charger would only ever listen, letting her oceans of tears soak the leather seats.

Men would always break her heart.

Cars would always mend it.


	6. Heart to Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated!

Nesta’s body was on autopilot as she drove down the coast. The rumble of the Charger’s Hemi engine vibrated through her, bringing her a small amount of comfort at the familiarity. She wished it’s roar would drown out her thoughts and take away her pain. Instead, _his_ name pulsed through her with every beat of her heart.

_Cassian._

That bastard. Her hands tightened around the steering wheel in a white-knuckle grip.

_Cassian._

Good-for-nothing thief. She shifted gears, relying on muscle memory.

_Cassian, Cassian, Cassian._

She slammed down on the accelerator, sending a surge of adrenaline pumping through her veins. It washed out any thoughts other than survival, the high speed and tight turns demanding her full attention.

She didn’t know how, but somehow she ended up at that spot where she and Cass had sat and watched the LA lights sprawled out beneath them.

She pulled off the road, slamming the car into park. Of course her subconscious would bring her here. She pressed a hand to her temple, trying to sort through her jumbled mind. Her phone buzzed in the passenger seat, and she glanced at it.

_I’m sorry. Please let me explain._

She scoffed, tossing it back to the seat after turning it off. Nothing he could say would rectify the way he had played with her heart.

Though being at this ridge brought back memories she’d rather forget, she was too drained to drive anywhere else. She retrieved the thin, ratty old blanket she kept in the backseat and got out of the car. Wrapping it around her shoulders, she climbed onto the hood and slunk back against the windshield.

The night was cold, but not enough so to prompt her to leave her perch. The still warm engine radiated enough heat to ward off the chill for now. She focused on the lights of the city below, tracking headlights and taillights as they sparkled against the backdrop of the blue ocean.

How had she been so foolish? She should have never let Cassian into her heart, never should have opened up to him. Was there something about her that drew men in, but only the ones that would break her? She had so many questions, but no one to give her answers.

“Why?” she whispered, the desert breeze washing the single syllable over the valley. Tears welled in her eyes, and she desperately tried to blink them back. They fell anyway, splashing to the blanket as they spilled down her cheeks.

She loved Cassian. She had finally admitted it to herself; she loved him. Or maybe she loved the idea of him, of the man that had saved her that night from the sleezeball when she was frozen and couldn’t fend for herself. Either way, she had cared for him, more than she had allowed herself to care for anyone in a long time.

Maybe she should give him a chance to explain. After all, she had agreed to hear him out but had instead kicked him out the door as soon as he’d told her he stole cars for a living. But she hadn’t paid his side of the story any heed, and maybe that was a mistake.

But she was so, so tired. Her eyelids drooped, and she rested her head on the roof of the car. She would figure it out later, after she’d had the chance to sleep on it.

***************

The crunch of gravel woke her from her light slumber, and she sat bolt upright. The sun was a blinding orange orb as it rose higher in the sky, bathing it in hues of dusty pink and cornflower blue. It must have been somewhere around nine or ten, judging by it’s position in the sky. She never should have fallen asleep, not out here where anything could happen. She looked around wildly, searching for the source of the noise that woke her.

“Hey, it’s alright.”

She whirled towards the voice and nearly lost it. “What the hell do you want?” The words were venom as they left her tongue.

Cassian flinched, but held up a bag of food. “I brought you something to eat. It’s Subway- turkey and provolone on Italian, with pickles. Your favorite.” She looked over his appearance, secretly pleased to see that he looked like hell, dressed in baggy sweats and an old, worn out sweatshirt. The bags under his eyes indicated he hadn’t slept much the night before, if at all.

“I don’t want your damn food,” She spat, even as her stomach rumbled. “How the hell did you even find me?”

He shifted awkwardly on his feet. “I tried calling you a million times, but it went always went right to voicemail. I got worried… And when I came by your house early this morning, you weren’t there.” He cautiously set the tempting sub next to her on the hood, like a peace offering.

“You went to my fucking house?” Anger surged within her as she stared him down, fire dancing in her eyes. What gave him the right to care about her? Who did he think he was, checking up on her? He had no claim to do so, not after what he’d done to her.

“Yeah.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I called the diner too, because I knew you had a shift early this morning. And when they said you weren’t there, either…” He ran a hand through his ragged hair.

“I knew that this was where you would be. I just had to make sure you were okay.”

Damn him. Tears pressed at her eyes again, and she turned back toward the city. “I don’t want to talk to you,” she whispered, her heart constricting. The suspension dipped and creaked as he slid onto the hood, and she scooted father away. From the corner of her eye, she could see he was sitting cross-legged, facing her with his head in his hands.

“Look, Nesta, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”

His words elicited a rage so hot and intense that it blurred the edges of her vision. He didn’t get to apologize and expect everything to go back to the way it was.

“I don’t give a shit how sorry you are-“

“Can you please just let me talk?” The undercurrent of hurt in his tone startled her enough to look up at him. This close, she could see that his eyes were puffy and red; he’d been crying too.

When she didn’t speak, he blew out a sharp breath and continued.

“I want you to meet my brothers.” He glanced at her for a reaction, and the only surprise she let show was a blink. “And I want to tell you about my past, and why I do what I do. I want to answer your questions about my family and my tattoos, and any others you have.”

His hazel eyes searched hers and he nudged the sub toward her. “Will you let me explain?”

Her gaze fell to where his scarred, tanned, greasy hand was splayed on the hood next to the cellophane bag. She _should_ give him a chance to explain, she owed him that much. And if she was being honest with herself… She wasn’t ready to give up on whatever this was between them, not yet.

She cautiously reached for the sub and nodded.

“I’d like to hear about your tattoos first, please.” She unwrapped the sandwich and inspected it. No mayo and extra pickles; just how she liked it. Cassian visibly slumped in relief as she took a bite.

“It’s a long story…” She shot him a glare. If he said he didn’t want to talk about it, after promising to answer her questions-

“But I’ll start at the beginning.” The tension that had unwittingly built in her shoulders eased. “It’s hard for me to talk about so just-- bear with me.” He took a deep, steadying breath and played with a loose thread on the blanket.

“I’m an orphan.” Nesta paused mid-bite, lowering the sandwich to her lap. His voice was barely audible as he spoke, and she strained forward to listen. “My parents left me on the steps of a hospital when I was barely able to walk. I don’t remember either of them at all; not a single memory of them, good or bad.” Despite herself, her heart clenched in sympathy.

“I bounced around from home to home my entire adolescent life. I didn’t fit in anywhere, got picked on no matter where I went… I got into a lot of trouble, in and out of juvie and military academies alike. I was a bad kid, Nesta. No one wanted to deal with me, and I became bitter and angry with the world.”

“The day I turned sixteen, I got kicked out of my nineteenth foster home.” He laughed harshly, raking a shaking hand through hair. “I packed up my things and got into the car that would take me to the next fake family, the next set of smiling faces that would soon morph into expressions of disgust and disgrace.”

“But the moment I got out of that cab, I knew something about this home was different.” His face brightened, like an invisible burden had been lifted. “The flowerbeds were bright and full of life, the house itself was painted in brilliant tones of purples and blues. It was welcoming, and so was the woman waiting for me on the front steps.”

“Maryse was my saving grace.” The tiniest of smiles worked it’s way onto his lips. “She was the first foster parent that really cared about me. Most of them only took me in because it meant another check from the government once a month. They didn’t give a shit if it traumatized me. But Maryse… She was a saint.”

“She was a single parent and had a son of her own that was around my age; Rhysand. The other boy she took under her wing was Azriel, and the three of us bonded real quick. Maryse ended up adopting Azriel and I after our first year there.” She could hear the hint of pride in his voice when he talked about them; his family.

“She loved us all so much, and never once made Az and I feel like we less than her son because we weren’t her blood. She taught me everything I know about the world, and then some.” He gave Nesta a watery smile.

“She died when I was seventeen.”

Nesta’s heart sunk, her hand flying to cover her mouth. “Oh, Cass.” He had barely known her for a year, and yet she had been such a significant part of his life. She couldn’t imagine the loss- her own mother had been cruel and cold, and her death hadn’t been so painful. But to lose a mother that loved unconditionally, that had treated him as her own…

“Cops ruled it a suicide, but we knew better. Maryse loved life- and us- too much for that. We knew that Rhys’ father had to have been behind it. She divorced him when Rhys was three- he’s a mob boss out in Boston. That wasn’t the kind of life that she wanted for her son, so she left him.”

“We were afraid that he’d find out we were suspicious of him and he’d come after us, too. He’d always hated that she had taken Az and I in. He hated all three of us, to be honest. So Rhys, Az, and I pooled our money and moved out here.”

Any remaining anger she harbored was replaced by a pain so deep, she didn’t know if it would ever end. He had been through more than she could ever imagine. She reached out, taking his hand in hers. With his free hand, he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing the dark, mysterious whirls of his tattoo.

“The three of us got these when we settled out here, in her memory. They’re traditional Illyrian tattoos- in honor of her heritage, and ours.” Again, the tiny flicker of a smile. “She’d helped Az and I trace our roots back as far as we could and we found out that we each had a little bit of Illyrian in us, too.”

Her fingers reached out toward the ink, her eyes flicking to his as they made contact with his skin. He shivered at the touch, but didn’t pull away. “They’re beautiful,” she breathed, tracing the patterns up to his shoulder. “Are there any others?”

Cassian released her hand and grabbed the hem of his shirt. He pulled it over his head, and Nesta marveled at the inked chest that she had seen only once before, the second night they’d met. The linear pattern encompassed his right pectoral, snaking around his side and ending just above his waistline. She’d seen these ones, but hadn’t paused then to appreciate the stunning beauty of them.

“These tell a story of some kind, don’t they?” She could make out mountains and lines of wind in the shapes scattered over his torso. Scars flecked the skin too, woven between and through the inked lines. She didn’t have the heart to ask what they were from.

“All my tattoos do.” He turned, baring his back to her. She gasped, her eyes flicking across the canvas of his skin. The perfect depiction of two strong, membranous wings- one sprouting from either side of his spine. Exquisitely detailed and precise, they looked like they could peel from his skin and carry him into the sky.

“There’s an Illyrian legend that Maryse used to tell us every chance she got. It was about their elite class of warriors, who lived thousands of years ago. According to myth, they had wings, huge and bat-like, in varying shades of purple, black, and blue. It was those flying warriors that allowed them to conquer most of what is now Europe, before their extinction.”

The muscles of his shoulder blades tensed as her cold fingers traced these tattoos, too. Never in her life had she seen such mesmerizing art, not even in a museum.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she whispered, withdrawing her hand. Cassian shrugged back into his shirt, not saying a word as he shifted to rest against the windshield. His jaw feathered as he stared out over the city, avoiding her eyes. His auburn curls swayed in the mid-morning wind, and Nesta tucked a stray strand behind his ear.

“So that’s my life story, and the story of my tattoos.” He risked a glance at her, eyes filled with a sad sort of longing for what could have been.

“Not all of it,” she murmured, wrapping up the forgotten sandwich and setting it aside. His sigh told her that he knew what she was getting at, and he scrubbed a hand over his face. It was obvious that he’d hoped to avoid the subject for the time being.

“You wanna know more about my job,” he said plainly, and Nesta nodded.

He looked to his grease-stained hands. “Finding a job that pays well enough to support three young guys in a town like this isn’t easy, you know. We tried working in fast food or at restaurants… But no one wanted three washed up kids with rap sheets longer than their arms. We’d been here a couple months before I finally got us a break at this mechanic’s shop downtown.”

Nesta felt that she knew where this was headed, but still asked: “What shop?”

“Ricardo’s.” His eyes flicked to her, but he remained slumped in shame. She suppressed her gasp for fear of making him wither further. It was common knowledge among those in the car scene that Ricardo was into some bad shit, and that his mechanic business was just a front to keep the cops from asking too many questions.

“So that’s how you got into this.” Cassian nodded, curling further in on himself. She forced herself to take deep breaths and not panic or lash out in rage. He had only done what he thought he’d had to in order to survive. He’d grown up in a harsh environment and hadn’t seen any other options.

She could do this. She could let him finish explaining and make a rational decision based on the facts presented. She breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth. When she felt calm enough, she spoke.

“And now you… Do what you do?” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. To do so would make it all the more real and painful.

He nodded. “Yeah, Rhys, Az and I ‘do what we do.’ But Nesta I _swear_ we’re done after this next job. We’ve put away almost enough money to open a _real_ auto repair shop, we just need a little more.” He carefully placed his hand over hers, as if it were a bomb ready to explode on contact. “Then I’m done, I swear.”

It was obvious that he was telling the truth. She could see it in his eyes- the way they searched her face and brimmed with hope. He’d laid himself bare, and had allowed her to prod at old, festering wounds that ran bone deep. Isn’t that exactly what she had wanted, for him to let her see all sides of him as she had allowed him to see hers?

 _Take him back,_ her heart screamed.

 _Don’t be a fool,_ argued her head.

She weighed her options. Trust the man she had come to love and possibly be betrayed again somewhere down the line. Or, she could walk away right now, and never know what beautiful thing could have blossomed between them.

She was done cowering. She wouldn’t let her choices be dictated by fear.

“I can’t have my heart broken again,” she said quietly.

“I promise you, Nesta, that I will be making an honest living two weeks from today.” Gently, he brought her hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles in the same tender fashion that she had done with his a few weeks ago. “And I promise that I will not break your heart, should you decide to trust me with it.”

She didn’t need to think. No longer would her life be ruled by doubts and distrust. She was free, here in California where the waves beat against the shore in a steady rhythm and she had miles and miles of asphalt to explore.

She lurched forward, and Cassian met her halfway. Their lips clashed together, not in battle but in a sweet dance of forgiveness and acceptance. His hands came up to cup her jaw, brushing away the saltwater that had traced down her cheeks. She tasted her own tears- or maybe they were his- as her tongue slipped into his mouth.

They broke apart only when the sound of another engine roaring along the road rose above their gasps and pants. He rested his forehead on hers, her fingers trailing over the planes of his torso under his shirt. Her lips brushed against his collarbone as she worked up the nerve to speak.

“Cass, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“Anything,” he breathed, brushing his thumb over her cheek. She studied him a moment longer before drawing a deep breath.

“Is there any room for a fourth person on this job?”


	7. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feel free to send me feedback! Also, you can send me requests over on my tumblr, wingsofanillyrian!

“What did you just say?”

“I said that I want to help you on this job.” She kept her voice strong, head held high. She wouldn’t back down. If this thing between them was going to work, she had to be allowed into every aspect of his life, good or bad.

“Nesta, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” His hazel eyes were brimming with worry. “Look, let’s not jump into this-“

“I’m done sitting on the sidelines!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands wide. “All I’ve ever done is sat back and watched my life go by. If this- this job- is something that you need to do, I would rather be there with you, just so I know you’re safe.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair. She could see the gears turning in his mind, every possible scenario racing through it faster than the spark of a sparkplug. He grimaced, as if at war with himself.

“This isn’t a decision to be taken lightly, Nes.” He spoke evenly, as if speaking to a caged animal. “We’re talking about committing a felony-“

Anger flared within her. “I know damn well what stealing cars involves.” She grit her teeth, grinding out, “I’m not some helpless girl that needs to be kept in the dark, needs to be protected from the world.”

Cassian seemed taken aback by her determination and unwavering drive. He sighed, slumping back against the windshield. He gave a tiny nod, unwilling to look at her.

“Okay. But…” He held his hands out, palms up. “Just don’t make a decision without all the facts, alright? Let’s go back to my place, go over the details. And then if you still are dead set on working with us…” His eyes met hers, warily. “We’ll discuss.”

“Seems fair,” she grumbled, sliding off the hood of the Charger. The springs and shocks creaked as he followed her, both of them moving to stand at the edge of the gravel overlook.

His offer was more than fair. She’d jumped in, feet first, without even checking how deep the water was first. There was a very good chance that it was shallow, and she would be left hurting in one way or another.

So she knew Cassian was right to be wary, and to advise her not to make a decision so quickly. He understood her need to ensure his safety, but he didn’t just brush it off. He took the time to listen to her concerns and offer a more realistic, level-headed solution. His ability to diffuse her hot-burning anger instead of fueling it was one of the things she liked most about him.

“You wanna follow me back to my apartment then? Go over the plans?” Cassian placed a cautious hand on the small of her back. It amazed her how one small touch could turn her insides into such a gooey mess.

Nesta allowed herself another moment to breathe in the fresh, warm air of the valley to calm her thumping heart. Then she turned to him, laying her hands flat on his chest and looking up at him.

“I’d like that,” she murmured, enamored by the soft curve of his lower lip and the slight stubble that lined his jaw. Caught in the moment, and the sweetness of his tone, she reached up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his chin.

He gave her an earnest smile. “It’s kind of a long drive from here, but I don’t think you’ll mind.” He rolled up the blanket that had been on the car’s hood, handing it back to her.

“Not at all.” Just thinking about getting behind the wheel had her mood improving tenfold. She gave him a saucy grin before shoving the rolled-up fleece in the backseat and opening the driver’s door. He started back towards his car, but she called: “Make it interesting, alright?”

“Count on it, sweetheart.” She watched as he slid smoothly into his Audi, which started with a housecat-like purr. Bertha on the other hand, roared to life as proud and strong as a lion when Nesta turned the key. She couldn’t help but smile at the satisfying sound, running her hands over the leather of the steering wheel.

She used the hand crank to roll the window down as Cassian pulled up beside her. He’d put on sunglasses, and her heart skipped a beat. What was it about sunglasses that instantly made a man ten times more attractive? He smirked at her and he yelled to be heard above the combined rumble of the engines.

“Try and keep up!”

Nesta shot him a glare and placed her hand on the gearshift. “I already beat you once, remember?”

“But this time, the difference is you don’t know where we’re going!”

She opened her mouth to reply, but it was filled with dust as he slammed on the gas. His tires spun, pelting the side of her car with the loose gravel of the shoulder before he veered onto the road. She coughed and struggled to roll up the window, cursing his name.

“Not very sportsmanlike,” she mumbled under her breath, jerking the wheel and following the retreating Audi in hot pursuit.

Nesta knew that the weighty construction of the Charger gave her superior handling over Cassian’s newer, lighter vehicle, and she planned to use that to her advantage. She raced after him, shifting gears and drifting around the tight corners of Mullholland Drive. She gained on him quickly, as he couldn’t take the curves nearly as fast as she.

She caught up to him before they’d exited the valley, tailgating him so he couldn’t slip away. She caught his eyes in his rear-view mirror and stuck her tongue out at him. His head fell back in a roaring laugh as they came upon a straight away, and they slowed to a more respectable speed.

Nesta snatched her phone from the passenger seat as they rolled up to a stop sign. She dialed his number, watching his silouhette through his back window. He answered as they turned onto the highway leading towards downtown.

“Hey,” he purred, jolting ahead as he shifted. Nesta pinned the phone between her shoulder and ear and did the same.

“I didn’t see you pick up,” she said, tongue flicking out as she tried to juggle talking and shifting. Not an easy task, but one she had learned to master.

“I’ve got Bluetooth. It’s the best way to go when you’ve got a manual car, y’know? Oh wait, that’s right, Bluetooth wasn’t even invented when that ancient beast was produced.”

Despite herself, Nesta grinned. She quickly switched to speaker phone and threw it to the dash. “Old school!” He quickly passed a slower car, and Nesta was hot on his tail. “And may I remind you that this so called ‘ancient beast’ whooped that import’s ass!”

The sound of his cackling laughter poured through the phone and filled the cab. “True, true. Alright, we’re about twenty minutes out. I’ll talk to you then,” he said, and she could practically feel his excitement through the phone.

“Bye, boy,” she purred in the best imitation of his voice.

The road widened to four lanes, and she slammed on the accelerator to pull up beside him. Sunlight spilled through his open window, highlighting the lighter brown tones in his hair.

Damn, that man was beautiful.

His lips curled into a cocky grin, and he winked before shooting ahead again, leaving Nesta with a loopy grin on her face and adrenaline in her veins as she tore after him.

***************

Her first impression of Cassian’s apartment building wasn’t the best one. It was on the shadier side of town, and she was surprised he dared to drive such a high-profile car in this neighborhood. She studied the run-down brick building as she pulled up to the curb to wait while Cass parked his in the underground garage.

The trees lining the walkway were mostly leafless and sad, and the scrubby bushes by the entrance weren’t in any better shape. Empty cans and random trash littered the sidewalks. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked and was hushed with a harsh yell.

The whole scene reminded her of her roots, though she would much rather forget. After her mother had died, they’d lived in a building similar to this. The red brick and beat up cars lining the street reminded her of Colorado, and the shitty life she’d had there. The only highlight had been her sisters, Elain and Feyre.

She gulped, pulling herself back to the present and making a mental note to call her sisters soon.

A knock on her window startled her, and she jumped. Her heart slowed when she was greeted with Cassian’s warm smile, head tilted inquisitively to the side. She smiled back, double checking that she grabbed her keys before climbing out.

“I don’t think the boys are home,” he said, shutting the door for her. “I didn’t see their cars in the garage.” She followed him up the concrete path to the apartments.

“Oh, that’s too bad.” She pretended to pout a bit, was secretly relieved that she wouldn’t have to meet them when she looked like a wreck, with her hair a mess and in yesterday’s clothes. Cassian unlocked the front door with his key, then turned back to grin at her. He stretched out his hand to escort her, and she took it gratefully.

“Welcome to my home,” he said, shouldering the door open and stepping inside.

The first thing that struck her was the military-like cleanliness of the cramped space. Bland, stock pictures of mountains and the night sky hung on the walls, perfectly straight and aligned with each other. The entryway was really the living room, which housed a worn gray couch and a sagging armchair. Besides the furniture, everything else was in tip top shape.

Basically, it was the exact opposite of the dirty, unorganized bachelor pad she’d been expecting.

A peal of light, airy laughter broke her intense survey of the apartment. She looked to her companion for an explanation of the sound.

“I guess Rhys must be home,” Cassian said quietly, grimacing apologetically. “He’s probably on the phone with his girlfriend. Those two can’t go more than ten minutes without speaking.”

Nesta pursed her lips, nodding in response.

“So, what do you think of my castle?” He slipped off his shoes, and Nesta politely did the same.

“Its…” She rolled words over her tongue, searching for the right one. While the small apartment certainly wasn’t a mansion, it was warm and inviting. There were touches of Cassian everywhere. She saw evidence of his influence in the movie collection stacked neatly beneath the coffee table, the sporty leather jacket she recognized hanging by the door.

It was his home, and she could tell that he loved it.

“Quaint.”

He grinned in amusement. “It’s not much, but it’s all I’ve got.” He shrugged sheepishly, nodding towards where light spilled into the hall. “Come on then, I’ll introduce you to Rhys.” He tugged on her hand, leading her to his brother.

Butterflies filled her stomach. What if he hated her immediately? Would Cassian choose his brothers over her, a woman he’d known a for a little over a month?

Gods, she hoped not.

“Here we go,” Cass said, tossing one more smile her way before gliding around the corner into the kitchen.

A man with raven hair leaned casually against the counter, phone held to his ear as he picked invisible lint off his black dress shirt. His skin was the same olive shade as Cassian’s own, but covered with far more of those black whorls, from what she could see peeking out from under the sleeves.

And he practically _radiated_ power. She could see it in the commanding way he stood- he was a natural born leader. It was obvious that he called the shots in Cassian’s little band of brothers. He must have been wearing colored contacts, because his eyes were the most brilliant shade of violet she had ever seen.

“Yeah, I would have kicked his ass too. Oh- Hey Cass!” He perked up when he saw the two standing in the doorway, his eyes snagging on Nesta’s small frame. “Hey, darling, I’m gonna have to call you back. Cass brought company over- shocking, I know.”

The male flashed Cass a toothy grin and said a few more words before hanging up the phone. “Well, are you gonna introduce us or are you just gonna stand there like an idiot?” The words may have been harsh, but the smile on his friend’s face negated any true malice.

Cassian’s hazel eyes nearly rolled out of his head. “Rhys, this is Nesta. Nesta, this is my shit-head brother, Rhys.”

Rhysand chuckled and shook his head, but extended his hand. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Nesta. Cassian hasn’t been able to stop talking about you since he rescued you on that highway.”

“Rescued me?” Her brows rose and she turned to Cassian. “That’s funny, I don’t quite remember any heroics on your part.” A smirk played at her lips and he flashed an innocent smile.

“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” he said quickly, clasping his hands behind his back. Nesta scoffed, but was unable to keep her smile at bay. He was cute when he was feigning innocence.

“Azriel should be home soon,” Rhys said, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “There are some, ah-“ His eyes flicked to Nesta- “ _things_ the three of us need to discuss.”

“You mean the four of us.” Cassian’s head was in the fridge and he dug out two cans of an energy drink from the very back. He offered one to Nesta, but she refused. He shrugged, as if to say, _your loss._

“I’m pretty sure there’s only three of us,” Rhys said, a cautious edge to his voice. Cassian plopped down in the chair opposite him with an audible sigh.

“Nope.” He pulled up another seat for Nesta, beaconing her to sit. She padded over, slinking into the seat. Once she was settled, Cassian beamed at his brother and continued: “Nesta wants to come too.”

“What do you mean?” Rhys’ face was a mask of deadly calm, and she could tell that he was barely holding the façade together. She fiddled awkwardly with her hair, mentally preparing herself for a fight.

“She wants to be a part of this heist,” Cassian said casually, taking a long swig of the drink. A tense silence coated the room. Rhys’ eyes bored into Nesta’s skull, and she avoided his stare, instead picking at the table.

“Absolutely not,” Rhys said.

“Rhys, come on.” Cass set the can on the table, spreading his hands wide. “You said so yourself, we could use another set of eyes to watch out-“

“I said someone we could trust!” He hissed, leaning forward over the table. “Not someone you’ve been dating for barely a month.

Nesta flinched, desperately wishing she could become invisible. Cassian noticed this, and rested his warm, reassuring hand on her thigh. The contact sent a spark through her, but it was enough to distract her mind from Rhysand’s words.

“I trust her,” Cassian said, keeping his voice as even as he could. Nesta could have sworn her heart swelled to twice the size. She gazed up at him, at the stoic look on his sharp, handsome face, and realized that _this_ was what a relationship should be.

It was trust, not fear, that was the bedrock of any healthy relationship.

He was the first man that had readily admitted that he trusted her. Her past boyfriends- if you could even call them that- had constantly accused her of sneaking around and lying. But Cass… It was clear that he meant what he’d said. And for him to risk his relationship with his oldest friend by saying so… It meant more to her than he could possibly know.

“I’m sorry, Cass, but that’s not enough for me.” Rhysand’s words were softer now, but still held a commanding edge. “Not when one wrong split-second decision could cost one of us our lives.” Cassian’s grip on her thigh tightened, and she could tell that he was ready to say things he’d soon regret.

“How can I prove that you can trust me?” She blurted, meeting Rhysand’s intense violet eyes. “Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

He eyed her warily, and she squared her jaw and held his stare. She would not be intimidated by him. Besides, he didn’t seem cruel, just concerned about his brothers. She didn’t think she had anything to be worried about when it came to the male before her.

Finally, he glared tersely at Cassian. “We’ll discuss this later. Azriel needs to be alright with this, too.” He glanced at his watch and sighed.

“Speaking of whom, I have to go meet him at the shop.” Rhysand stood abruptly, smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt and turning his weary gaze to her.

“Please don’t take all this the wrong way, Nesta. You seem like a lovely person, and I know you make my brother happy.” He glanced sidelong at the male in question, who tensed. “It was nice meeting you.” He gave her the tiniest of smiles before padding out of the kitchen.

“He means well,” Cass said quietly once they heard the door slam. He pushed a hand through his hair, leaning back in the chair. “Don’t judge him too harshly, okay?”

“Of course not. I understand.”

“You do?”

Nesta shrugged. “I would have done the same if it were my sisters we were talking about.” Because when it came down to it, she would do anything to protect them.

Cassian broke into a huge grin. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmured, leaning over to kiss a sweet kiss to her cheek. He let his lips linger an extra moment and she blushed a deep red.

“Cass, I want to thank you for what you said to Rhysand.” She placed her hand over where his still rested on her thigh.

“What do you mean?”

“About trusting me.” She looked down to their intertwined hands and rubbed her thumb over his.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, cupping her cheek. She leaned into the touch, turning her swirling blue eyes up at him.

“No one I’ve been with has ever said that about me before. So it means a lot.”

His smile was warm and genuine as he said, “Then I’ll say it more often.” He tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “Nesta Archeron, I would trust you with my life.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, lower lip wobbling as she did so. _Gods_ those words sounded lovely on his tongue. She released his hand to thread his fingers in his curls, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

“You’re welcome,” He murmured against her hair, and she could practically hear the smile on his lips.

Cassian was willing to place the lives of himself and his brothers in her hands. He trusted her, with his whole heart and every fiber of his being. Until now, Nesta had never known what that level of trust felt like. And now that he had allowed her into his life, been open with her, she was growing to understand what that thread she felt connecting them was.

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them or ponder the consequences.

“I think I love you, Cassian.”


	8. Blood on Her Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're squeamish and/or don't like blood, skip this chapter.

Nesta’s hands immediately flew to cover her mouth. Did she truly just confess her love to Cassian?

 _Damn it._ Everything had been going so well between them, and now her big mouth had to go and ruin it. And to make matters worse, he looked like he might throw up. Great, he was really that repulsed by the idea of her loving him. Tears welled in her eyes and her heart pounded a mile a minute as she slowly lowered her hands to her lap.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking-“

Cassian shook himself as if waking from a daydream. A small smile cracked his face and he placed his hands on her arms, which only made her cry harder. Why was he smiling? Did he _enjoy_ her pain?

“What?” she sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “What’s that look for?”

“I love you too, Nesta.”

Her breath left her in a rush. Through her tears, her smile mimicked his own as she asked, “Are you serious? You’re not screwing with me?”

“Gods, no!” He shook his head, letting out a lovely laugh. “I’d never lie about something so serious. I _do_ love you, Nesta. I really, really do.” She could tell by the twinkle in his eyes that he was being truthful. Never in her life had she hoped to earn the love of someone so gorgeous and warm as Cassian.

It was like a dream come true.

She’d never felt so _light_ in her entire life. It wasn’t like this was the first time she’d told someone she loved them; far from it, in fact. But it was the first time that she felt a soul-deep connection to someone. A joyous laugh bubbled from her lips.

“Say it again,” she whispered, turning her blue eyes up at him. He smiled and cupped her face in his hands as if she were the most precious being on the planet. The tenderness in the gesture melted the last sliver of ice she had harbored within her.

“I, Cassian Valle, love you, Nesta, with my whole heart and soul.”

She’d never tire of hearing those words. Electricity zinged over her skin, making her feel dangerous and wild.

Nesta balled her hands in the fabric of his shirt and pulled him towards her, crashing her lips to his. If he’d been at all shocked by her forwardness, he didn’t let it show. He immediately wound his fingers in her auburn curls, sliding his tongue over her bottom lip.

She opened her mouth to him, allowing him free range to explore as he wished. Without breaking the kiss, she climbed into his lap, hooking her legs around his waist. His moan sent a wave of lust crashing over her, and she tugged his lip between her teeth.

She wanted him.

She wanted him _now._

“Bedroom,” she gasped, breaking away to trail her lips over his strong, stubbled jaw. She knew he was itching to take her up on the offer, judging by the way he gently rolled his hips against hers.

But still, he paused. “Are you sure? You’re positive?”

“Yes,” she growled, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging his head backwards to grant her better access to his neck.

“Then hang on.”

Her arms snaked around his neck as he stood, and she pressed open-mouthed kisses to any skin she could find. His moans filled the narrow hallway as his grip on her bottom tightened. Finally, after what felt like ages, he pushed open a door that presumably led to his room.

He sat her on the bed, immediately reattaching his mouth to hers in another heated kiss. She tugged on the hem of his fitted tee, and he had it off in seconds and thrown into a corner. She was again taken aback by the intricate ink splashed across his chest. Her fingers ran over the hard planes of his muscled torso as she marveled at them, drinking in every peak and valley.

Cassian was perfect in every way. He was warm and kind, but not so soft that he couldn’t hold his own in a fight. He was incredibly handsome, too, which was always a plus. She wondered if he was hewn from a block of solid marble by the gods themselves.

She broke away to lift off her shirt, tossing it to join his. He swooped in and his tongue darted over her jaw, eliciting a low moan from her. Her head fell back as his expert tongue trailed down the column of her neck, eyes snapping open as he lightly bit down on the tender skin.

It was only then that she noticed what was covering the ceiling of his pale-blue room. Her previous lust was replaced by a deep curiosity as she looked over the various papers tacked to the walls. She gasped, pushing lightly on her lover’s chest.

“Cass, wait.”

He stopped immediately, putting a foot of space between their chests. His intense hazel eyes searched her face as he said, “Did I push too far with that bite? I’m sorry, I won’t do it again-“

“No, I liked that.” She shot him a wicked grin. “But what’s all this?” She flourished a hand to encompass the small room.

“Oh.” He rose to his feet to flick on the light. “These are the plans for the heist.”

She looked over the wall beside his bed, which was covered in maps with different routes highlighted in various colors, street view pictures, and various hand-written notes on a wide variety of subject matter.

“There’s a lot, I know,” Cassian said sheepishly, grabbing their shirts from the floor. She accepted hers and pulled it over her head, and he did the same.

“They’re all very elaborate,” she said, padding to his desk to look over the various cut sheets of engine compartments and spec sheets detailing the security systems of various cars.

“That’s because we have to account for every possible variable.” He came up behind her, and she didn’t object when he placed a hand on her hip and leaned forward to grab a sheet off the wall. The intimacy of the touch sent a shiver down her spine.

“Like what?” Nesta asked, wanting to both distract herself and find out as much as she could as quickly as possible. If Rhys randomly reappeared, she had no doubt that he would blow up at Cassian and force her to leave. She didn’t want to be the cause of a fight.

“Well, there’s police patrols, time of day, weather patterns, potential witnesses…” He ticked them off on his fingers.

Nesta hummed. “You guys have really thought of everything, haven’t you?” She turned to him expectantly with wide blue eyes. He smiled tightly, the pent-up stress evident in the rigid set of his shoulders.

“We have to.” He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and sighed. “One wrong move, one simple mistake, and everything could blow up in our faces.” Her grip on the desk chair tightened.

Maybe Nesta had spoke too soon. Looking at the walls around her, plastered with a multitude of scenarios and potential dangers, she began to question if she could stand up to the pressure. She’d never done anything illegal in her entire life. Speeding, sure, and that time as a kid when she swiped a candy bar from the general store down the street. But never anything with such huge potential consequences.

Cassian wrapped his arms around her middle. “There’s no shame in deciding not to come with,” he murmured with such understanding that it made her heart ache. She knew he didn’t want her to go along because he didn’t want her to wind up hurt. And maybe… He was right.

She had zero experience when it came to boosting cars. These boys obviously had everything down to a science, and she would only end up getting in the way.

“I don’t think I can be in the thick of things.” She turned in his arms to face him. “But I still want to help somehow. Something easy, that doesn’t make me a risk to you or your brothers.” Because if something were to happen to any of them, she would never forgive herself.

“I could monitor police scanners or something,” she suggested, and immediately could see Cassian’s mind whirling.

“Yeah, that could work.” He absentmindedly scratched his chin. “Would take a bit of pressure off of Azriel- of course we’d have to see what the boys have to say-“

He was cut off by a loud, shrill ring. He dropped his arms from around her, immediately rummaging through his pockets for his phone. Flipping it open, he held it to his ear.

“Hello? Oh, hey Az!” His face lit up. “Nes and I were just talking about you-“

Nesta could hear someone’s-Azriel’s- muffled voice, but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Apparently, neither could Cassian. His brows knit together and he stepped back.

“Woah, woah, Az slow down-“

Another few seconds of garbled speech, then the blood drained from Cassian’s face. His normally bright eyes were dim and cold as they met hers. A seed of fear blossomed in her stomach. It was as if a black shadow had crossed in front of his soul, and he looked ready for a fight.

“Where are you.” Not a question, but a command.

“I’ll be right there.”

He snapped the phone shut and shoved it back in his pocket. He snatched a discarded bag from the floor and tore through his desk drawers, shoving gauze and supplies inside. She wrapped her arms around herself in attempts to ward off the chill that had taken over the room.

“Cassian, what’s going on?” Despite her efforts to remain calm, her voice shook.

He zipped the bag before slinging it over his shoulder. She was hot on his heels as he exited the room, almost slamming into him as he paused to grab a towel from the hall closet. He tossed it to her, which she caught with a squeak of surprise.

“Cass, what’s wrong?“ She jogged to catch up with him as he snatched his keys from the table and flew out the door. “Hey!”

He whirled on her, his face a carefully crafted mask of calm.

“Rhys’ been stabbed.”

***************

As they pulled off the street, Nesta knew exactly where they were headed. Towards the end of the alley, a Subaru WRX was parked outside one of the decrepit garages. Charcoal gray and possessing few visible modifications, the car was nondescript enough to blend in while still offering a quick getaway if necessary. It _had_ to belong to one of the brothers.

The garage itself was nothing special. Upon approach, she could see the handpainted sign hanging from the door marking it as the “3 Brothers Garage.” The white paint was peeling off in chunks, revealing faded raw wood beneath. She wasn’t exactly surprised that this was where the brothers kept their business; she doubted anyone would call the cops around here if they saw anything fishy.

The Audi came to a jarring halt next to the Subaru. Cassian jumped out the moment the wheels stopped, shouting for his brothers.

“Azriel! Where are you?!” Nesta threw the bag over her shoulder and followed him as he stalked across the alley.

“In here,” a voice rumbled from the garage. Cautiously, Nesta followed Cassian as far as the threshold, where he stopped short. She peered over his shoulder, fearing what she would find.

The fluorescent lighting washed out the colors, casting an eerie blue glow over the scene as they hummed. Tools were scattered across the various benches, and a car was hastily covered with a sheet in the center of the room. And beside it, in a pool of what was unmistakably his own blood, was Rhys.

“Oh, gods.”

There was so much blood. It coated the concrete floor, leaking in a steady stream from the deep gash in his leg. Azriel leaned over his brother, putting pressure on the wound. Rhysand’s chest rise and fell in shallow breaths, his teeth gritted against the pain.

“Rhys,” Cassian breathed, kneeling beside the two and feeling for Rhysand’s pulse. Panic and anger warred in his expression as he glared at the dark-haired male. “What the fuck happened?”

“Guy came in while we were working, said we sold him hot parts.” Azriel’s hazel eyes- a perfect match to Cassian’s own- flicked to Nesta.

“She knows,” Cassian growled. “Keep talking and help me get him to your car.”

“This guy was unstable, Cass, I’m telling you.” Both men grunted as they hoisted Rhysand’s dead weight between them, and he hissed in pain. “He brought out a knife- I was on the other side of the garage. I didn’t get there fast enough, he got a strike at Rhys before I could disarm him.”

Shame twisted Azriel’s features into a gruesome sight. It was a look Nesta recognized well, from the self-loathing she often felt.

“It’s not your fault,” Nesta said in attempt to console him as they shouldered past her. It only earned her a glare.

“Who the hell is she, by the way?” Azriel’s eyes raked over her as the four moved towards the cars outside. She glared right back at him, noting the scars that mottled his hands beneath this brother’s blood. It would seem the dark male had his own demons.

“Her name is Nesta,” Cassian muttered, then jerked his head towards the Subaru, eyes flicking toward her. “Get in the backseat.”

“What?” Her gaze fell to where Rhysand’s leg dripped to the pavement. “You don’t mean-“

“I damn well do,” Cassian said in a dangerously low voice. “You wanted to help, here’s your chance.” His eyes softened as he saw the fear she was certain was plain on her face.

“Please.”

It wasn’t like she was afraid of a little blood. She had no problem with it. Being entrusted with the life of someone Cassian cared about was what scared her.

But she was _Nesta Archeron._ She could handle this.

She straightened and gave him a terse nod. “Okay.” She slid into the backseat, unzipping the backpack and unrolling the gauze. Cassian’s eyes locked on hers as he and Azriel lowered Rhysand in next to her. He slammed the door, and she watched as the two moved a few steps away.

They were screaming at each other, but Nesta couldn’t tell what they were saying. A low moan snapped her attention to the problem at hand. With as much gentleness as she could muster, she pulled Rhysand’s injured leg over her lap.

His sharp cry of pain shook her to the core. Instinct took over and she pressed the gauze to the wound with both hands, trying to staunch the bleeding.

“You’ll be alright, Rhys,” she murmured, as Azriel ripped open the driver’s door and slunk into the seat. The engine came to life with a rumble that oddly reminded her of the male’s gravelly voice. She expected Cass to take the passenger seat, but instead Azriel shifted into reverse and backed out before shooting down the alley.

Panic rose unbidden in the pit of her stomach. “Isn’t Cass coming?” Being alone with a bleeding Rhysand was one thing. She could handle a nearly unconscious man, but riding to gods knew where with someone she’d just met moments before? Even if he was Cassian’s brother, it didn’t sit well with her.

“Behind us,” Azriel muttered without looking up. Her head whipped around to peer out the rear window and she breathed a silent sigh of relief. His Audi jetted behind them, sleek and fast as a shark. Knowing he was there calmed her ragged nerves, and she concentrated on Rhys.

Scarlet trickled through the gauze and over her pale fingers. He was loosing far too much blood- he’d never survive if they didn’t get the wound cleaned and properly bound. Each bump sent more blood oozing over her fingers and onto the leather seat.

“He needs a hospital,” Nesta said, willing steel into her voice.

“No,” Azriel said sharply, jerking the wheel and sending them around a corner. “Too many questions.”

“He needs stitches-“

“Cassian and I know what we’re doing.”

Nesta sniffed at the accusation in his voice. “Fine.” Without another thought, she ripped her shirt over her head and tied it around Rhys’ leg.

“What are you doing-“

“Saving his damned life,” she snapped, tightening the knot as tight as she could. Then she slung his leg over her shoulder, elevating the wound. Rhysand’s eyelids fluttered, his face contorting in agony.

“Feeeyre...”

Every muscle in Nesta’s body went rigid.

“Did he just say _Feyre?”_

“Feyre’s his girlfriend.” Azriel knocked the gearshift forward, sending them another gear higher and faster. Nesta’s insides turned leaden. It couldn’t be- there certainly were plenty of people named Feyre. But still…

“My sister’s name is Feyre,” she rasped, desperately fighting to stay calm even as her heart thudded in her chest.

Azriel’s eyes met hers in the rear-view. “Can’t be. His Feyre lives out in Colorado-“

“I’m from Colorado!” Horror flooded her veins. Her mind fogged and she pressed down harder, causing a choking gasp to escape from Rhys’ lips. “Have you seen her? What’s her last name?”

Azriel turned another corner, and the scenery became vaguely familiar. “Archeron.”

The world slipped out from under her. Nesta was watching her sister’s boyfriend, who she hadn’t even known existed, slowly bleed out. Azriel pulled in behind her Charger, Cassian whipping in after them. He and Azriel hefted Rhysand from her lap in a blur, and she was distantly aware of Cassian trying to tell her something. She couldn’t hear it over the ringing in her ears.

It was like she was watching herself from outside her body. She saw herself clamor from the car, but shut out the warm, sticky substance that slicked her skin. Her head was spinning from everything, and she just wanted to fall apart.

Nesta stumbled into the apartment after them. A light was on down the hall; that must be where they intended to work on Rhys. Her eyes traced the trail of dark drips that stained the already soiled carpet. It would never come out.

She slumped on the couch, still in a daze. Blood coated her hands, her shirt, jeans- every inch of her.

The sight scared the living shit out of her.

She needed to call Feyre.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, numbly dialed the number she’d memorized years before. It took three rings before her sister answered.

“Hello?”

“Feyre, are you dating a man named Rhysand?” Her voice was rough and scratchy, even to her own ears. “Lives in LA?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

There was a pause, and she let her head fall into her hands.

“He’s been hurt, Fey.” Tears sprung unbidden to her eyes, clogging her throat. “Bad.”

“What- How? How do you know?”

“That doesn’t matter. Just get to his apartment as fast as you can.”

There was a scuffle on the other end, presumably her sister gathering her things.

“I’m on my way- it’s still gonna take a few hours-“

“Just hurry.”


	9. Getting Warmer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love feedback, thanks for reading!

A harsh pounding at the front door jostled Nesta from her light sleep. She blinked, glancing down at herself to find that someone- probably Cass- had given her a clean shirt, so she was somewhat presentable.

Cautiously, she picked her way towards the door. She was already mentally preparing a speech of innocence, in case it was a curious neighbor- or the cops. Whoever it was pounded again, insistent this time. She peered through the peephole, breathing a sigh of relief.

She swung it open. “Feyre-“

“Where is he?!” Her sister shoved her way inside, eyes puffy and red. Her flip flops were mismatched; understandably in too much of a hurry to bother finding a matched pair. She was absolutely frantic, scanning the room for any sign of her boyfriend. Feyre’s gaze snagged on the drops of crimson on the creamy carpet, the color draining from her face.

“Is that his?”

Nesta chewed the inside of her cheek while she decided how to respond. Of the three of them, Feyre was usually the level-headed sister. It was unnerving to see her so shaken up. Figuring it was best not to beat around the bush, she opted for the truth.

“Yes, that’s his blood.”

Feyre’s lithe shoulders stiffened. “Where is he.” Her steely blue eyes zeroed in on the blood trail and followed its path down the hall, Jaw set, she marched for it, but Nesta blocked her way.

“I know you’re worried, but he needs his rest.” She filled her voice with every drop of compassion she possessed, hoping she would understand. “Cassian and Az are still stitching it up and they need a sterile environment-“

“Let me through right now!” Feyre shrieked. Her plump lower lip wobbled, threatening to spill her barely contained emotions.

Rhysand’s bedroom door opened, and both women turned towards it. Cassian emerged, his dark shirt stippled with even darker stains. He wiped his hands clean on a cloth, looking at Feyre with an apologetic, open expression.

“Oh thank the Gods,” Feyre sighed, rushing to Cassian and digging her fingers into the flesh of his forearm. “I need to see Rhys.”

“He isn’t awake, Fey.” Cassian gently pried off her fingers and brushed past her into the kitchen. Both sisters followed, Nesta hanging a few paces behind as he turned on the tap to wash his hands.

Feyre slipped into a cool, threatening calm. “What do you mean he isn’t awake?” Her eyes were trained on the red-tinted water as it swirled down the drain. Cassian’s face was grim as he braced his hands on the steel sink.

“Rhysand passed out from the blood loss. I’m O-neg, so I managed to transfuse a little bit of my own to him, but it wasn’t enough.” That would explain why Cassian was so pale, Nesta thought.

Cassian sighed, drying his hands with a towel before tying back his tangled curls. “He should be out of the woods now, but I don’t know when he’ll wake up.”

When, not if. His optimism was impressive when one considered all the ways this could go wrong. Rhys could end up with an infection,

“I need to be with him,” Feyre said, voice barely above a whisper. “He needs me.”

Cassian’s hazel eyes met Nesta’s unwavering blue over Feyre’s shoulder. _He needs his rest,_ they seemed to say, beseeching her to agree. She shook her head.

The Archeron sisters were creatures of observation, needing solid concrete facts to reaffirm what they were told. Nesta knew that her sister needed to see for herself that Rhysand was still breathing. If it had been Cassian in that bed instead, it would have been the same for her.

“They should be done now,” Nesta said, earning her sister’s attention. “Go on and see him. I’m warning you though, you might not like what you see.”

Feyre nodded and raced down the hall, leaving Cassian and Nesta alone in the kitchen. Neither said a single word; not when they heard Rhys’ door creak open, and not when the sounds of Feyre’s choked sobs reached their ears. The two stood in absolute silence until Azriel appeared, nearly startling Nesta out of her wits.

“Is he any better?” Cass asked, letting Azriel take his place at the sink to wash up. The dark-skinned male scrubbed his mottled hands and arms with brutal efficiency, as if eliminating the blood would erase what had happened.

“Yeah. He’s gotten a bit of his color back, but his breathing is still pretty shallow. I think it’ll be at least another hour before he wakes up.” Azriel nodded in Nesta’s direction. “You damn well may have saved his life with that tourniquet.”

“I did what I had to,” she said simply, taking a seat at the table. “I couldn’t just let him bleed out.” Cassian winced, and Azriel’s shoulders stiffened. She hadn’t meant to be so blunt, but that was her nature; she couldn’t help it.

“In any case, I owe you a life debt for saving him.” The shadowy male inclined his head in a respectful manner. “Thank you.”

Nesta’s mouth gaped open like a fish. She never would have expected to hear those words from Azriel’s mouth. At least, not directed at her. The brothers exchanged a weighty glance, unspoken words passing between them. Azriel nodded once before gliding towards the exit.

“You’re welcome,” she said finally, but he was already gone. Cassian sank into the seat next to her, fiddling with the towel he still held. Nesta watched him closely, concerned by the manifestation of the nervous tic.

He blew out a sharp breath, his brows drawing together. Clearly something was wrong.

“Cass, what’s-“

“How are you doing?” He interrupted quickly, forcing a thin smile to his lips. She frowned, taking the towel from him and setting it out of reach.

“I’m fine, Cass.” Considering the circumstances, at least. “How are _you?”_

His false smile faltered for a fraction of a second. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she said, and he ducked his head in shame. She brushed her fingers over his hand. “Talk to me, Cass. Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Defeated, he leaned back in his chair. “Everything,” he said, flourishing a hand. “Rhys getting stabbed, you having to witness the aftermath, Feyre’s sorrow. Just… Everything.” He blinked rapidly, trying to hide the silver that lined his hazel eyes.

This was not the Cassian that he showed the rest of the world. No, this was the side of himself that he allowed only her too see; the vulnerable, scared boy that loved deeply and felt other’s pain as his own. His rugged exterior hid a heart of gold, and she was thankful he trusted her to bask in it’s light.

Laying his hands flat on the table, he studied them. Scars crisscrossed the backs like lines on the maps lining his bedroom walls, charting the path of his life. Bits of blood still stuck stubbornly in the creases of his knuckles, a grim reminder of the last few hours.

“You saved him, you know,” she said gently, laying a hand over his. For the first time she could remember, his skin was cold. She drew a shaky breath at what that implied before saying; “This isn’t your fault.”

“But it is,” He said, shaking off her touch. “I should have been there.” He was retreating within himself, much like she herself did when someone probed one of her emotional wounds.

“It isn’t like you have a sixth sense that tells you when your brothers are going to get stabbed-“

“I meant I was supposed to go with them to the garage, Nesta.” His voice dripped venom, mouth twisted in disgust as he turned to her. “I should have been there, but I stayed here with you instead.”

Her stomach curdled. “Oh, I see.” She withdrew her hand, instinctively drawing up her defenses as her anger roiled. “So this is my fault.”

Standing abruptly from the table, she turned her back to him. After saving his brothers life, this is how he repays her? By _blaming_ her for the entire situation? Frustrated tears sprung to her eyes, which she pushed back with the heels of her palms.

“I didn’t say that,” Cassian said, chair scraping against the tile as he stood, too. But there wasn’t any trace of apology or regret in his tone.

Nesta’s laugh was cold and unfeeling. “But you’re thinking it, right? If I hadn’t come here to your apartment, you would have gone with them and everything would be fine. Rhys wouldn’t be laying in that bed fighting for his life, I wouldn’t be fighting with you- everything would be just fucking dandy!”

“That’s not what I meant.” The harsh lines on his face had smoothed into something resembling compassion. Arms outstretched, he took a step forward, and she took a step back. “Nesta I don’t-“

“Save it,” she muttered, striding for the door. “Don’t talk to me.”

“Nesta wait-“ he grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. As his calloused fingers curled around it, her mind was transported to another time and place. One where she had allowed herself to be the helpless doe, snared in the wolf’s unforgiving grip.

 _This is not Colorado,_ she reminded herself, _and he is not Tomas._ Now _she_ was the wolf, and she wouldn’t allow her past to haunt her for another second.

“Let. Me. Go.” She was pleased at how steadily the words rung through the air.

“Please Nesta,” Cassian begged, but did not release his grip. “I don’t blame you-“

“I don’t want your damn excuses!” She spat, ripping her arm free. Whirling on him, she stabbed a finger at his broad chest and dropped her voice threateningly low. “And let me make one thing perfectly clear. I’m only staying here because my sister cares for that man, Gods know why. As soon as he’s better, I’m leaving, and you’ll never have to look at me again.”

Cassian’s chin wobbled, a reaction that caught her off guard.

“Fine,” he rasped, eyes downcast. “If that’s what you want.”

She knew he wouldn’t let her go so easily, but he didn’t try to stop her again as she strode from the kitchen and out the front door.

Slamming it with more force than necessary, she sunk down against the cool red brick of the exterior. She was beyond furious with Cassian. She let down her hastily tied up bun, dragging her fingers through the matted locks. How had she gotten blood streaked in it?

Sighing, she dropped her hands to her lap and gazed out over the courtyard. The setting sun cast it’s final crimson rays over the horizon, shining bright against the glossy hoods of the brother’s cars, and her own.

Despite Cassian’s betrayal, she smiled upon sight of the Charger. Bertha was the one true constant in her life. The ocean tides ebbed and faded with each day, like her sister’s love for her. Because Feyre’s presence reminded her of the time that she had spent stubbornly cooped up in their Colorado home, hoping that their father would break out of his helpless spell.

He didn’t, of course, and it had been Feyre that had supported their family. And then Nesta had left the day she turned 18, taking what little income she did provide with her. She didn’t see how her sisters could ever forgive her for abandoning them like that.

The events of the day mixed with her renewed self-loathing became overwhelming. Silent tears streaked down her freckled cheeks in the fading light. She sat there, cold seeping into her skin through the thin cotton shirt, for over an hour before the door creaked open.

Quickly, she swiped the moisture from her cheeks. A glance at the intruder’s feet told her all she needed to know.

“Go away, Cassian,” she croaked, resolve wavering despite her best efforts. “I don’t want to talk to you.” Or anyone, for that matter. All she wanted to do was go home, crawl under the covers and hide from this entire situation.

“I just wanted to bring you some water,” he said, concerned. “I figured that after expelling so much of it through your eyes, you might be thirsty.”

She did not laugh at his attempted humor. He cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting on the balls of his feet. Wordlessly, she accepted the bottle from his outstretched hand. She drank greedily, the water soothing her raw throat.

“You can sit,” Nesta muttered. She stared straight ahead as he settled his huge frame next to her on the tiny concrete stoop. Only a few inches of charged air separated their bare arms, and she resisted the urge to lean into the heat he radiated.

“Your sister has been looking for you,” he said, shifting to sit cross-legged. His knee brushed hers, and she shied away from the touch.

“I’m not that hard to find,” she said plainly.

“I mean she’s been trying to find you _here,_ in the city.”

Nesta’s brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, tracing invisible patterns on his thigh with the blade of his forefinger, “That she’s been trying to find you since you left Colorado. It’s how she met Rhys, actually.”

The breath left her lungs in a whoosh. Feyre had been hunting for her? That didn’t make any sense. Unless she wanted to ream her out for leaving her and Elain behind with their good for nothing excuse of a father.

“She said that she couldn’t get ahold of you after you left.” Not an accusation, but a statement borne of curiosity.

“Changed my phone number,” Nesta said, shoulders curling inward.

“Ah, that would explain it.” He rested his head against the wall. “Feyre came out every weekend to look for you. Asked anyone and everyone if they had seen a candy apple red Charger around town… You wouldn’t have thought that would be such a struggle.” She caught his grin from the corner of his eye, but didn’t return it.

“Anyway,” He continued, “I think she was really worried about you, Nesta. I would have told her where to find you, but I didn’t put the pieces together until now.”

Hearing that Feyre had been worried about her shouldn’t have come as such an intense shock. Yes, the sisters had their differences, to be sure. They had bickered daily back home, but beneath it all Nesta knew that they both loved one another. Guilt was a depressing bitch, further darkening her already sullen mood.

“I guess all that matters is that she’s found me.” She drew her knees to her chest. Now that the sun had set, the California chill had taken hold. Noticing her shiver, Cassian eased his toned arms from the flannel he had been wearing and offered it to her.

It was a gesture of good faith. Finally, Nesta looked up at him. His stunning hazel eyes, which were usually bright and shining, were dulled with hurt.

And the worst part was that _she_ had caused that fundamental change. He’d confided in her during his time of need, laid himself bare. When he’d needed her most, all she had done was push him away.

“She doesn’t blame you, Nesta. And neither do I.”

She couldn’t bring herself to speak. A tense silence enveloped them, broken only by shrill car horns and the occasional burst of a thudding baseline. When Cassian grew tired of waiting and gently lay the shirt over her shoulders, she didn’t protest.

He was being genuine when he said he didn’t blame her for his brother’s injury. Looking back now, he hadn’t said anything that indicated that he held her at all responsible for what had happened. In fact, he had taken the entirety of the blame as his own.

Nesta hugged the flannel tighter around her, inhaling Cassian’s spicy cinnamon scent. She let it wash over her, comforting her frayed nerves and frazzled mind.

“I know you don’t,” she said finally, leaning into his warmth. “I’m sorry for being hotheaded and jumping to conclusions.”

“It’s alright. We’ve all had a long, long day,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her and cradling her head to his chest. The loving action broke the dam she had constructed within herself, and tears flowed liberally down her face as she balled her fists in the front of his shirt.

“Everything will be okay.” He stroked a large hand over her gnarled hair as she sobbed. He became an anchor in the raging sea that was her life, tethering her to the distant shore. He wouldn’t let her float away. He’d guide her home and keep her safe, until the bitter end.

She cried until her eyes went dry, Cassian murmuring soothing words in her ear all the while. When she was finished, all that remained of her sobs were the wet spots on his shirt.

“You should sleep,” he said softly, pressing his lips to her forehead. Gods, did she want to rest. Already, her eyes were drooping at the mere thought.

“I’m in no condition to drive.” She sniffled, sitting up and wiping her eyes with his sleeve.

Cassian shrugged. “You don’t have to go home. You’re welcome to use my bed, if you’d like.” When she opened her mouth to reply, he added, “I can sleep on the couch.”

For a moment, she considered the offer. Sleeping at his apartment meant she would be closer to Feyre, in case her sister needed her. But it also meant taking a huge step in her and Cassian’s relationship, one she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

In the end, her yawn decided for her. “Okay,” she said, nodding her head before resting it once more on his chest. She circled her arms around his neck, holding him close. Too tired to consider walking, she asked, “Carry me?”

“I would be glad to.” Carefully, he snuck an arm under her knees and pulled her to his lap before standing. She let her eyelids slide shut, comforted by the warmth of his body. Never before had she felt so at ease around another person.

Nesta’s ears registered the low noise of the television as Cassian paused to exchange a few words with Azriel in hushed tones. Her exhausted brain didn’t comprehend what was said, but soon enough he was walking again, taking great care not to jostle her too much.

Her bare toes brushed the doorframe as they entered his room. “I’m gonna set you down,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“Okay,” she whispered back, sinking into the feather-soft mattress as he lay her down. She turned her nose to the pillow, drinking in his scent as it encompassed her senses. He drew the plush blanket up over her shoulders. Her eyes fluttered open as he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“Goodnight, Nesta.”

“Love you,” She mumbled sleepily, and he smiled.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He turned to leave, and she was suddenly frightened by the thought of being alone. Cassian had kept her demons at bay- what if they came back while she slept?

She caught his arm before he could take a step. He looked back at her, confusion lighting his features.

“What is it?”

She worried her bottom lip, lightly squeezing his forearm. “Will you stay with me?”

It was a question that left her exposed and vulnerable. If he refused, she wouldn’t blame him, but her heart would break. And if he said yes… Well, didn’t they both deserve something good?

“Of course I will.” She dropped her hand and he stripped off his soiled shirt and pants, leaving them in a heap on the floor. It left him in only his boxers, but at this point Nesta truly didn’t mind. She scooted back to make room for him, lifting the edge of the blanket in silent invitation.

He climbed in beside her, and she immediately curled against him. His arms engulfed her in a peaceful embrace, all of her worries draining from her body as she threaded their fingers together. As his strong, steady heartbeat quickly lulled her to sleep, she had never felt more at home.


	10. The Third (Wo)man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave me feedback!

Nesta woke slowly from her deep slumber, stretching her limbs and sighing. She smiled to herself, recalling her refreshing, peaceful sleep the night before. Being wrapped in Cassian’s arms must have comforted her unconscious mind, because she had not been plagued by her usual nightmares.

She reached across the bed searching for his warmth, but his side of the sheets were cold.

Frowning, she cracked her eyes open. Sunlight leeched in through the blinds, casting its warm glow over Cassian’s quaint bedroom, but he was nowhere to be found. She rolled over, grabbing her phone from the nightstand to check the time.

“Damn,” she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was well past 10 am, which explained Cassian’s absence. Her stomach growled, spurring her into action. She sat up with a groan, throwing her hair up in a messy bun before padding into the hallway.

Immediately, the greasy smell of bacon frying taunted her senses. She followed the delicious scent and the sounds of light laughter to the small kitchen that doubled as a dining room.

“There’s sleeping beauty!” Cassian called from his place at the stove. He was still shirtless, but wore an apron that had the torso of a muscular man printed on it. It was unnecessary, of course, as his body was ten times as gorgeous than any dumb apron.

Noticing her stare, he said, “This is to protect your favorite parts.” His goofy grin brought a smile to her face.

“Good morning,” murmured a deep voice from beside Cass.

Nesta was surprised to see Azriel next to him, cooking eggs for their meal. He gave her a small smile, which she returned with one of her own and a slight incline of her head. From what she’d gleaned, Cassian’s adoptive brother was a man of few words, so she knew that every gesture carried a deeper meaning.

“Good morning,” she replied, glad that the mood of the day was light and happy. Cassian leaned his cheek towards her, and she splayed a hand on his lower back, standing on her tiptoes and gladly planting a kiss to it.

“Eww!”

Her sister’s voice drew her attention away from the planes of Cassian’s chiseled back and towards the table. Feyre sat curled up on her chair at the table, making a face at Nesta’s show of affection. The sunlight from the window didn’t reach her, which Nesta concluded was how she hadn’t noticed her earlier.

“Save it for the bedroom!” She teased, pointing between the budding couple.

“Leave them be, Fey. We’ve done far, far worse in public.”

Nesta jumped as Rhysand appeared from the shadows, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the oak table. So _that_ was why everyone was so happy go lucky! A smile stretched across Nesta’s face, surprising even herself.

“Rhys, you’re awake!”

The male in question laughed breathlessly. “Indeed I am.”

“That’s great,” she said, slipping into the seat across from him, “I’m glad you’re doing better.”

“As well as can be expected.” Feyre reached over and tenderly brushed his hair off his forehead. It was beaded with sweat, his body still strained from the wound he’d received. His skin held less of its usual color, but he looked ten times better than he had the day before.

Seeing him out of his room lifted a weight off Nesta’s shoulders. She hadn’t realized just how worried she’d been about Rhysand until that moment. The odd part was she wasn’t sure _why_ she was so concerned about a man she had just met.

It was very unlike her to care about anyone other than her family. But she knew how much Rhys meant to Cassian, and how crushed he would have been if something much worse would have happened. She supposed that had something to do with it.

“By the way,” Rhys said, grimacing as he tried to sit up, “I should apologize for judging you so harshly when we met, Nesta.” Feyre’s eyes flashed with concern as Rhys’ breathing labored from the smallest of movements.

Nesta shrugged, eyes flicking to her sister’s. “It’s alright-“

“No, it’s not.” His lips were pressed into a thin line, a wave of pain crumpling his face. Feyre rubbed a soothing hand on his back, trying to console him. It took him a moment before he could continue, “Of all people, I should know not to level a judgement without having all the facts first.”

At this point, the kitchen had become utterly silent. The sizzling of bacon had stopped, each body in the room attuned to Rhys’ words. Even in his current weakened state, his aura still radiated power and demanded attention.

“You saved my life, risking yours in the process. I cannot begin to tell you how thankful I am for that, and for your unwavering bravery in the face of imminent danger. You’ve earned my trust, that much is for sure.”

Nesta simply nodded, unsure how to respond. Rhysand smiled before his violet eyes flicked up over her shoulder, relaying some silent command to his brothers.

“Okay, breakfast is served.” Cassian reached over her to set plates of bacon and eggs on the table. His bare arm brushed hers, sending a prickle of excitement over her skin.

It amazed her, that one tiny touch could turn her insides to jello and her mind into a blank slate.

Azriel set out freshly cut fruit before sitting on Nesta’s left. Normally, she would have bristled at any male being so close, but she was beginning to feel comfortable around Cassian’s brothers.

“Smells wonderful boys,” Feyre commented, serving both Rhys and herself.

“Thanks Fey,” Azriel said, but Nesta doubted her sister had heard. Her head was bent to confer with Rhys where he sat slumped in his chair, looking paler than before. Rhys waved her off and dug in.

“Eat up, Nes,” Cassian murmured in her ear before sitting in the empty seat to her right. He was still wearing that ridiculous apron, but she wasn’t complaining. It gave her the perfect view of the wings inked on his shoulder blades, and the muscles that rippled beneath them when he reached for a plate.

“Take a picture,” he said, grinning at her. “Lasts longer.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, but her stomach flipped when he winked. She served herself a few pancakes, slathering them with butter and syrup. Looking around the table, she relished the smiles and easy laughter of her new friends, sister, and boyfriend.

Though Rhysand’s injury was a tragedy, it was also a blessing in disguise. It had brought Nesta back to her sister, and earned her two new friends that she was beginning to realize she could count on. 

Maybe her heart wasn’t so frigid after all.

“Before I forget, Nes,” Feyre said casually, “Elain is flying in this weekend.”

Nesta nearly choked on her orange juice. “What? Why?”

“She wants to see how Rhys is doing.”

“She knows about all this?” Nesta waved a hand to encompass the room. “She’s met you guys?”

“Elain doesn’t know everything, no.” Azriel’s voice was soft when he spoke of her sister. “She knows the basics, but nothing that would put her in any kind of danger.” The way he picked at his food at the mention of Elain had her narrowing her eyes at him.

Nesta had always had a soft spot for the middle sister. Back in Colorado, she had been the one person she would have done anything to protect, and still would.

“You better not get any ideas about her, Azriel.”

The shadows in the room seemed to press in as he smiled. “Sure, Nesta. Whatever you say.”

“I mean it!” She wagged a finger in his face. “You make a move on her and I’ll drag my key down the side of your Subaru.”

Her threat had the desired effect. Everyone gathered gasped, save for Cassian. He laughed and shook his head, spearing a piece of pineapple off his plate and popping it into his mouth.

“Oh come on, Nesta. That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard.” He threw an arm over the back of her chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “You and I both know that you like his car too much to ever damage it’s pretty paint job.”

She rolled the thought around in her head. Cassian was right of course, Azriel’s Subaru was far too beautiful for her to ruin.

“This is true,” she relented, but cut Azriel a glare. “But I mean it!”

The dark male held his hands up in mock surrender. “Message received, loud and clear.”

“On that note, I think Rhys and I are gonna head back to his room. Az, give me a hand?” She motioned him over as she helped her boyfriend to his feet. Azriel moved to help, wrapping an arm around his middle to support his weight. Nesta watched as the trio hobbled out with a pang of sympathy.

“I knew you were bluffing,” Cassian said, leaning back and stretching his arms over his head. She was momentarily distracted by the sight, drinking him in. His smirk snapped her focus and she poked his ribs.

“Oh, hush and help me with the dishes.”

*************

Nesta had enjoyed her week off work. After everything that had been going on in her life, she called out, feigning the flu. It wasn’t hard to convince her boss it was the truth; she had only missed a shift once in the entire time she’d worked there.

She’d been staying at Cassian’s apartment along with Feyre. But having five bodies crammed in a place barely big enough for three had begun to take its toll on everyone involved. Rhys’ injury was still healing, and he didn’t need the added stress of constantly having people checking on him and fussing.

So Cass and Nesta had decided to spend Friday night at her place instead. They rented a couple of movies and made popcorn, snuggling up on the couch. Cassian had one arm draped over her shoulders, her head on his broad chest.

She gazed up at him, her warrior. The colored light from the TV illuminated the enchanting angles of his stubbled jaw, shadowed the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he laughed. She smiled to herself, more content than she had been in years. Cuddling closer to him, she let her mind wander.

In just a few hours she’d be picking up her little sister from the airport. She’d dwelled on what to say to her for hours, but in the end she still wasn’t sure. But she was beyond excited to see Elain after so many months apart, even if it made her a nervous wreck.

Cassian noticed her distance and squeezed her shoulder. “What are you thinking about?” He asked softly, thumb rubbing circles on her skin.

Nonchalantly, she responded: “How many different ways I can dismember your brother if he goes after Elain.”

His chest rumbled beneath her as he laughed. “Honestly, I can’t say I’m surprised. Though it would be interesting to see who would win that fight.”

“Me, of course. I’m smaller, therefore more agile and sneaky.”

“You’d be surprised, Nes.”

She shrugged. “I could take ‘em.”

“I have no doubt.” He kissed the top of her head, her heart somersaulting against her ribcage.

“What are _you_ thinking about?” She asked, fingers idly tracing the whorls visible through the thin cotton of his tshirt. He shifted uncomfortably before replying.

“The heist. It was supposed to be on Monday.”

“Oh.” Nesta wiggled free of his arm to look at him more fully. His brows were pulled together, and he absentmindedly ran his thumb over his bottom lip. She reached up, taking his hand and threading their fingers together.

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a sigh. He paused the movie, turning his pleading eyes to her. “I don’t know.”

 “Rhys is still hurt,” she reminded him gently. “He’s not going to be in any condition to go with you two on Monday. Hell, he won’t be participating in any illegal activities for at least a month.” She meant it as a light-hearted remark, but Cassian flinched nonetheless.

“Yeah, I know.” Looking away, he fiddled with a loose thread on the couch cushion.

The silence stretched between them, long and unsettling. It was Cassian who finally broke it, sighing and running a hand through his hair.

“I think I’m just gonna call it off.”

As shocked as she was by the words, she couldn’t help the relief that flooded through her. If he decided not to follow through on the carjacking, he’d be safe from potential harm. And though she didn’t want him to partake, she knew there was a question that needed to be answered.

“Is that your decision to make though?” She asked, swinging her leg over his lap to straddle his waist. She cupped her face in her hands, gently coaxing him to look at her. “I thought Rhys was the leader in your little cadre.”

“It was my idea in the first place.” Cassian shrugged, wrapping his arms around her middle. “We need a team of at least three drivers to pull it off- not counting someone to monitor the whole affair from afar.”

“There’s no one else you would trust to help?”

“No one. You’re already supposed to act as lookout, and I would never ask Feyre to take Rhys’ place and put herself in harms way.” Nesta stroked his hair, a thought quickly taking root in her mind.

“Or… I could be the third driver.”

Cassian went rigid beneath her. “Absolutely not.”

“Excuse me?” She reeled back, glaring at him. If he thought that he could order her around, keep her in a cage like some tamed animal, he was dead wrong. Nesta Archeron was a tigress, hungry for adventure and equipped with deadly teeth and claws. She would not let a man tell her what she could and could not do.

“You don’t get to make that decision for me.” Anger flared in her chest, threatening to spew out of her like lava. She took a deep breath, fighting to keep a level head. “I can take care of myself. You know I can drive- that’s not the problem, is it?”

“No,” Cassian said quietly, but averted his gaze.

“Then what is it?” He prodded his chest. “Is it because I’m a girl? Too delicate to handle the pressure? Well let me tell you-“

“Look, I know you can handle yourself, alright?” She scoffed and made to get off his lap, but he held fast. She gave him a warning glare, but didn’t try to get up again. “I know this isn’t my decision, and you know I would never control you like that.”

Crossing her arms, she bit her cheek. He spoke the truth. Cassian had never once tried to dictate what she did, but laid out the facts and let her choose for herself.

“But,” he continued, “you, me and Az- we wouldn’t be a fluid team. Rhysand, Azriel and I have been pulling shit like this for years- we’ve honed our skills to play off each other’s strengths and weaknesses. The three of us function like a well-oiled machine.” He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair.

“Adding someone new to that mix _and_ removing an existing cog- it won’t end well, Nesta.” He reached up, cupping her cheek. “I don’t want anyone else, especially you, to get hurt.”

“I can do it,” she protested, “we can figure it out.” More than anything, she wanted to help. She wanted Cassian and his brothers to be able to fund their dream of having their own _real_ garage. It wasn’t like she had the money to give them, so this could be her only opportunity to play a part in their success, no matter how illegal it may be.

Even if it cost her the thing she valued most: her freedom. Because for Cassian, her golden-hearted champion, she would do anything.

“Let me help,” she tried again.

Cassian shook his head. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you because we rushed this.”

“We’ll be fine-“

“Do you remember,” he interrupted, “how nervous you were the other day when you finally saw all the plans and realized you’d spoken too soon?”

She recalled the dread she’d felt in the pit of her stomach and looked closed her eyes. “I remember.”

“You’re doing it again.”

She cut him a glare, expecting to find his signature sly smile on his face. When she looked at him, however, his eyes held only understanding and none of the self-righteousness she’d anticipated.

It caused her to realize that she _was_ being irrational. She was volunteering herself for a job before she even knew what she’d have to do. She’d let her emotions take over without thinking. When had she started listening to heart instead of her head?

For now, she decided, she would let this fight go. She nodded, laying her hands on his chest and resting her forehead to his. “How is it that you know me better than I know myself?”

His cheeks dimpled with a smile. “Because I love you.”

“I love you too, brute.” She tilted her head, chastely kissing his lips. It didn’t take long for one innocent kiss to become more, not when his lips were pouring liquid love directly into her soul.

Responding to the outpouring of love, she traced her tongue over the seam of his lips. His fingers dug into her hips and he moaned against her mouth, allowing her inside to explore. Taking the hint when she tugged on the hem of his shirt, he peeled it over his head and tossed it aside. Hers followed moments later, Cassian’s calloused hands cupping her breasts through the thin material of her bra.

Snaking her arms around his neck, she ground her hips against his. A throaty growl escaped him, the sound her favorite aphrodisiac. They hadn’t gone all the way since that first night in the front seat of her Charger. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to- _Gods_ she wanted to-it had just never felt like the right time.

Until now, at least.

“Cass…” She purred, biting her plump lower lip. His hazel eyes were dilated with want, something she was sure was mirrored in her own.

“Bedroom?”

Nesta shook her head. “Right here.”

The grin that spread across Cassian’s face was positively primal. She giggled as his mouth attacked her neck with more fervor than before, tangling her fingers in his thick curls. His hands drifted down her bare sides, gooseflesh rising in their wake. They settled above her shorts, toying with her waistband.

Her phone chose that moment to ring, Cassian jerking away to reach for it.

“It’s fine,” she breathed, undoing the button on his jeans. Her attention was focused wholly on the man before her, on the love radiating between them. He frowned, ignoring her insistence in favor of snatching her phone. “Just leave it, who could it possibly be-“

“What time were you supposed to pick your sister up at the airport?”

“Six.” Her mouth left open-mouthed kisses down his strong, tanned neck.

“Nes, look.” He waved the phone in her face, the screen showing a missed call and numerous texts from her younger sister.

_Are you here? I just landed._

_I’m waiting at the baggage claim, where are you?_

_Helloooooo?_

“Shit! I must have gotten the time wrong!” She scrambled off his lap, scrounging for her shirt. Cassian laughed, pointing to the armchair. Nesta only glared at him, stalking off to retrieve it.

She pulled it on, heading to the foyer to slip on her shoes. Grabbing her keys, she stopped short when she saw him still planted comfortably on the couch. “Well?”

“Well what?” He twisted to peek at her over his shoulder.

“Aren’t you coming?” She chucked his balled-up shirt at him, barely catching it before it hit him square in the chest.

Cassian’s toothy grin was plastered to his face. “I’d love to.”


	11. The Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW! Enjoy

The white light of the moon washed over the pavement, the dull chatter of the throngs of people a incessant buzzing in Nesta’s ears. She toed the gas pedal of her 1969 Charger, the engine roaring in protest, eager to fly. But the car doesn’t move, not yet; Nesta had the clutch in, waiting on the car in front of her.

She was jumpy, tapping her fingers impatiently on the dash. Her stomach was a tangle of nerves, so much so that their sharp edges were barely dulled by the adrenaline in her veins.

The usual searing heat of day had faded into a cool breeze, blowing in through the half-open window. Chilled, Nesta rubbed her hands over her arms while she waited her turn to drive. What was taking so long?! Frustrated, she curled her fingers over the steering wheel once more.

Cassian glanced at her white-knuckle grip and discreetly buckled his seatbelt. “Relax, sweetheart. Everything is gonna be alright.”

“I am relaxed,” she said through gritted teeth. So long as she didn’t slip up and make a fool of herself, she was fine. Finally, the car ahead of her moved, and Nesta let out the clutch, tires squealing on the asphalt as she jolted forward-

Only to slam on the brakes a second later.

Because there on the sidewalk stood her middle sister. Various flowers sprouted on Elain’s sundress, blossoming huge and full in her sister’s warmth. Though her golden hair still fell in loose curls around her shoulders, it was significantly shorter than she remembered. The familiar grin and playful roll of her brown eyes had Nesta unwinding a bit as she parked the car.

“Must you always make a scene?”

“It’s more fun that way,” Nesta said, shrugging as she got out.

Elain chuckled and abandoned her luggage on the sidewalk to wrap Nesta in a tight hug. Momentarily stunned, Nesta’s arms hung limp at her sides. She’d expected Elain to be upset with her for being MIA for so long. She’d come prepared for a fight, or for her sister to cry, but not for this.

The past was the past, it seemed. A relieved smile worked its way to her lips, and she returned her sister’s embrace.

“Hello, Elain. How was your flight?” Nesta’s eyes flicked to Cassian, who had begun to load Elain’s suitcases into the trunk.

“Oh, it was delightful! I’ll tell you all about it on the ride there.” She turned, frowning when she noticed her suitcase had moved. “Hey, Nes? Where’s my suitcase? I swear it was there a moment ago.”

Cassian shut the trunk and strolled over. “I loaded it up for you. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not!” Elain smiled warmly, squeezing him in a hug. “It’s good to see you again, Cass.”

“Good to see you too, Elain.”

Nesta was thrown off by how easily the two got along. It was like watching the reunion of two childhood best friends, meeting again after months apart. She wondered just how long Elain had known Cassian, and _how much_ she knew about him.

Cassian slid the passenger seat forward so Elain could climb into the backseat. Nesta ducked into the driver’s seat, catching Elain’s signature smile in the rearview as she started the car.

“Oh!” Elain said, eyes wide, “Much more rumbly than I was expecting.”

“Just wait till we actually get moving,” Cassian replied, taking his seat and flashing a grin. Gods, that grin was magic. It absorbed Nesta’s attention, and it took her a moment to realize her sister was speaking to her.

“I’m sorry Elain,” she said, shaking herself and pulling into traffic, “What did you say?”

“I asked if you would like to hear more about my flight.”

“Of course.”

Her sister settled back against the leather bench seat, making herself comfortable before launching into her story. “Well, there was this wonderful woman sitting next to me, and we had a lovely conversation…”

***************

By the time the trio reached the boy’s apartment, Elain had nearly talked Nesta’s ear off. Cassian on the other hand, was delighted to listen to her sister chatter on, inserting his own anecdotes and thoughts into her stories.

The easy way that Elain laughed at Cassian’s jokes had Nesta feeling a tad bit jealous. Irrational, yes, but she couldn’t quell the lingering fear that her relationship with her sister had been damaged beyond repair.

The challenge would be getting Elain and Feyre alone to talk things through. With the latter clinging to Rhysand day and night, and the former just arriving in town, it would likely be a few days until they could work it out.

Nesta pushed the thought aside, instead focusing on the fact that they were together again. She smiled when Elain poked her head around, seeking a reaction to whatever she’d just said. Elain frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but Cassian saved Nesta from her sister’s remark.

“Here we are, casa de Amaya!” He swept his arm to encompass the dilapidated building to their right. Elain, to her credit, didn’t seemed at all phased by it’s outward appearance.

Nesta parked at the curb, and Cassian held the door for Elain before grabbing her suitcase. Nesta met them on the sidewalk and let Cassian lead the way inside.

“Have you done any redecorating since the last time I was here?” Elain’s tone was light, and Nesta’s brows knit in confusion.

“You’ve been here before?” Nesta asked, and Elain bobbed her head in a nod.

“Oh yes, a few times actually. Though I always told Cassian it could use a woman’s touch.” She elbowed his side and giggled at the grin on Cassian’s face.

Nesta let out a strained laugh. It would seem she had been much more removed from her family’s lives than she had previously thought.

“To answer your question Elain, no I haven’t.” Cassian unlocked the apartment door and ushered the girls inside. Ever in tune with her surroundings, Nesta caught how her sister’s eyes flicked around the living room, obviously searching for something- or some _one._

“Where’s Az-“

“Hello, Elain.” The shadowy man himself poked his head out from down the hall, and Elain melted instantly. She was all smiles and giddy excitement as she opened her arms and walked towards him. Azriel met her halfway, lifting her off the ground in a tight hug.

His smile was bright and radiant as he set her down. “It’s good to see you again,” he murmured, eyes shining. It was obvious that Azriel had taken a liking to Elain. He didn’t glare at her like he did to Nesta, nor did he balk when Elain threaded her fingers through his.

Interesting… Especially when Azriel had promised there was nothing between them.

“Its good to see you too, Azriel.” She stood on her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to her cheek. It wouldn’t have been unusual, except for the color that bloomed on Azriel’s cheeks at the contact. It was almost surreal to see the stoic male sport such a happy expression.

“I’ll grab your things.” Azriel reached a hand in Cassian’s general direction, his eyes glued to Elain. Cassian handed over the suitcase with a sigh, chuckling as he walked back to Nesta. Azriel said something too quiet for Nesta to hear before escorting Elain back down the hall.

“Alright, spill.”

“Spill what?” Cassian asked, snaking an arm around her waist and nuzzling his nose against her neck. It was obviously meant to distract her, and it _almost_ worked.

She pushed him off and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ve never seen Azriel smile like that. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything other than a frown on his face! What’s his deal with Elain?”

“Oh, come on now,” Cassian murmured, lips quirking up in a smirk. “He’s got a soft spot for her, that’s all.”

“That’s all?“ She threw her hands up and began to pace. “My baby sister comes to town, and suddenly a ferocious, hulking man turns into a pile of smiling mush and you think that’s all there is to it?”

“Well yeah. It’s not like they’re dating or anything-“

Nesta’s ears perked up at the sound of muffled laughter. Her eyes narrowed as she peered down the hall. Light seeped out from under the second door on the left, along with another giggle.

“Where exactly did he take her stuff?” She asked, not taking her eyes off that sliver of yellow light. She was quite certain she already knew the answer, but in the interest of not jumping to conclusions…

“To his room.” Cassian shrugged, as if that were no big deal.

Yup, she was right. And Azriel was most definitely going to be maimed in his sleep tonight.

“To his room?!” She whirled, exasperated. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

Oh no, this simply wouldn’t do. Nesta would not have sweet, innocent Elain scandalized by the likes of her own brute’s even brutier brother.

“It’s no big deal-“

Nesta held up a single finger in warning. Wisely, Cassian shut his trap. She spun on her heel, stomping towards the hall they’d disappeared down.

“Woah, easy there, tiger.” Cassian jogged to cut her off, flinging his arms wide to stop her. She tried to sidestep him, but he’d anticipated it and blocked her again. She settled for glaring at her boyfriend and the amused smirk on his smug face.

“Just what does he have in his head- I warned him!” Nesta peered around Cassian to wag her finger at Azriel’s door, “Say goodbye to your Subaru’s paint!” The laughter paused before resuming louder than before.

“Nesta, it’s fiiiine.” Cassian chuckled and placed his hands on her arms. Her ice blue eyes shot daggers, but he smiled and shook his head. “She stays here every time she’s in town. I let Azriel take my room and I take the couch. They don’t sleep in the same bed, Nes.”

“ _Every_ time? Just how often has she been here?”

“Ah, well…” Cassian scratched the back of his neck. “More than twice, less than ten?”

“Wow.” Nesta wasn’t sure why she was surprised. Of course her sister would have come with Feyre when she came to LA to search for her… But she was still shocked that Elain had endured these boys, and befriended them to boot.

“I promise she’ll be fine,” he said softly. Nesta pursed her lips as she studied the truth in his hazel gaze. Leafy green flecked with bits of gold and copper… She could easily lose herself within the sun-lit forests of his eyes.

“Fine,” she sighed, pouting her lower lip. “But for the record, I’m still not too keen on the idea.”

“Maybe I can change your mind,” Cassian said, his hands sliding down to rest on her hips. He bit his lip, waggling an eyebrow.

“Try me.” This close, his scent was intoxicating, like a grassy field after a fresh rain. She breathed it in greedily, unable to get enough as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

“Instead of the couch, maybe I could crash at your place.” He brushed her hair off her shoulder, exposing the column of her neck. Her knees trembled as he strategically placed hot, open mouthed kisses to her skin, indicating exactly what he had in mind for their “sleepover.”

Nesta doubted either of them would be sleeping, if he kept this up.

“What do you say to that, my love?”

“Sound like the best idea I’ve ever heard,” she breathed as he drew away. Triumph danced in his eyes, but Nesta was too flustered to chastise him.

She tilted her chin up, begging for a kiss- only to be rudely interrupted by a bark of laughter. Nesta glared at Azriel, Elain, Feyre and Rhys as they meandered into the living room, trapped in fits of bawdy laughter.

“Can I help you?” Nesta’s sharp words drew their attention.

Elain’s giggle petered out long enough for her to catch her breath. “Sorry- sorry.” She cleared her throat and swiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. “We’re going out to dinner, do you guys wanna come with?”

“I think we’re alright,” Cassian said, his smile warm and innocent. Azriel’s keen eyes noted their closeness and he raised a brow. Cassian’s fingers tightened on her waist as he gave him a slight nod.

Feyre shrugged and tugged her boyfriend towards the door. “Alright guys, lets get out of here before these lovebirds get it on right in front of us.” Nesta crossed her arms and shot an icy glare at her youngest sister. Unaffected, Feyre only stuck her tongue out as Rhysand, Azriel and Elain slipped into the night.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Feyre called, slamming the door after skipping out after them.

“Hmph.” Nesta’s brow remained furrowed, pissed that the mood had been ruined _again._ Gods, would she ever get him in bed?

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she sighed, shaking her head. She needed to stop putting her needs before the needs of others. Elain was here, looking happy and healthy. She seemed to enjoy Azriel’s company- Nesta made a mental note to address that situation later.

“What’s on your mind?” He trailed a knuckle under her jaw, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

“I’m glad he’s up and moving around.” The only indication Cass gave that he’d heard was a low hum, his lips joining the exploration of her neck. “And Feyre seems much happier now that Rhys-“

“I don’t want to talk about Rhys right now,” he growled, hooking a finger in the collar of her shirt to nibble softly on her collarbone.

She gasped, but resisted the urge to melt under his touch. She rather enjoyed this tempting little game of teasing. “Oh? Then what do you want to talk about?” She walked her fingers up his bicep, feigning boredom and innocence.

Dropping his voice to a husky timbre, he drawled, “How about how sexy you look in that shirt?”

Her cheeks heated, but she refused to let him win so easily. “This old thing?” She rocked back on her heels, forcing him to cease his torturous kisses as she slipped from his grasp. Cassian’s eyes flashed, the sudden intensity causing heat to pool in her core.

“I’ve had it for years. Its nothing special,” She continued shakily, her unaffected façade beginning to slip. His gaze moved tantalizingly slow over her torso, as if imagining what lie beneath.

“I _love_ this shirt,” said Cassian, yanking her hips back to his, “Do you know why?” His hot breath on her cheek was nearly enough to set her off. But she had one more trick up her sleeve before she yielded to him completely.

Snaking her arms around his neck, she purred, “Because it would look a hundred times better laying in a heap on your floor?”

“Read my mind, baby.” His mouth curled in a wicked, lopsided grin.

That was the last straw.

Twisting a hand in his hair, she yanked his stupid, gorgeous lips to hers. She immediately parted them with her tongue, claiming dominance of the kiss. Cassian’s satisfied growl vibrated through her bones as his hands found her ass, gripping tightly.

Taking the hint, she jumped and hooked her legs around his waist. She moaned when the new angle caused his length to press against her center. Even through the layers of fabric between them, she could tell how badly he wanted her.

They parted, chests heaving as Nesta ripped Cassian’s shirt over his head. Hers followed, both slung to the floor. He reached around her, his expert fingers unclasping her bra in record time. He dropped it to the ground and licked his lips.

“It’s not my bedroom floor, but it’ll have to do.” He grinned, walking them around the couch. His hand found one of her breasts, rolling and pinching her peaked nipple between thumb and forefinger. Her head lolled back, mouth open in a silent moan. Only when he dropped his hand did she find her voice.

“Where will you have me?” She purred, pressing a kiss to his Adam’s apple. Her fingers roamed his tattooed chest, lightly dragging her nails over the tanned skin.

“Wherever you want-“

She sank her teeth into his tanned shoulder, hard enough to bruise but not break skin. His moan was a mix of pain and pleasure as she flicked her tongue over the hurt. A purple mark was already forming- marking him as hers. Just seeing it flooded her with desire.

She couldn’t wait a moment longer.

She needed him.

_Now._

“Right here,” She rasped, nipping at his jaw. “Against the wall. That way every time you walk in that door, all you’ll think about was how we couldn’t even make it to your room.”

“Shit,” he whispered, pressing her against the wall. He braced an arm on either side of her shoulders, using a knee to support her weight. She distantly registered the way his body was shaking, too focused on using her mouth to leave marks on his neck.

“Wait- Nesta wait.”

She pulled back immediately to search his face. He shook his head, indicating that he was fine, but- “Let go so I can get these damn pants off.”

“Whatever you say-“ she rolled her hips- “ _Sir.”_ She grinned wickedly as she unwound herself from him, the tiled floor cold on her toes.

Cassian had her shorts off in seconds. He nearly ripped his jeans in his haste to remove them and his boxers, snagging his wallet from the back pocket before letting them both fall. She stood before him in nothing but a pair of plain red underwear, just out of arms reach.

“Damn, sweetheart.” He surveyed her, flipping open his wallet and taking out a square packet. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Flattery rarely affected her, but the love that coated Cassian’s words had stained her cheeks and chest a delicious crimson. His eyes remained locked on hers as he carefully tore open the packet and rolled on the condom.

Nesta crooked a finger at him, beaconing him to her. A single long stride closed the distance between them, his arms caging her to the wall. His eyes had become dilated with want, her breasts brushing his chest with each inhale.

“How badly do you want me?”

“You have no idea,” he murmured, rocking his hips in search of friction.

Emboldened by the lust roiling through the room, she reached a hand between them to wrap around his cock. She watched as his eyes slid shut as she guided him between her thighs, brushing the tip through her soaking folds.

“So what are you waiting for, Cass?”

His whine told her that he was holding himself back, waiting for her final consent.

“Go ahead,” she breathed, lining his cock up at her entrance and dropping her hand. “Fuck me.”

“Already so wet for me,” he said, seeming to contemplate his next move. Nesta growled, grinding her hips in attempt to coerce him. “And impatient too, it would seem.” Without warning, he slammed his hips up, filling her in a single thrust.

She dug her nails into his muscled back, scrabbling for purchase as he continued to move inside her. Their moans swirled with the sounds of their hips snapping together, filling the room with their comingled scents.

Cassian’s thumb found the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs, rubbing rough circles over the knot. Snapping her eyes shut, she bit her lip, determined to prolong her release. Gods, she’d forgotten how perfectly they fit together-

“Fuck, Nesta!” Cassian’s cry cut through her thoughts. He brought a hand up to tangle in her hair, resting his forehead on her cheek as he thrust. She was close, the tension in her core slowly rising towards her breaking point.

“Cass, I’m-“

“Come for me,” he purred, tugging her earlobe between his teeth. “Let me hear you.”

She shattered around him with a cry, his name rolling off her tongue over and over. She felt his cock twitch as he continued his thrusts, seeking his own release as she rode out her own pleasure. He captured her lips as he came, wrapping an arm around her to support her.

Cassian pulled out, brushing against her knot in the process. The overstimulation almost caused her to collapse, so he scooped her in his arms.

“I think I need a shower,” she mumbled, circling her arms around his neck. Her head was still fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure of her release, but she thought she heard him chuckle.

“I think I need one too.”

“I’m very concerned about water conservation.” Cassian quirked a brow at her. “We live in California- water is a precious resource.”

“Hmm, I think I know a way to fix that.”


	12. Race Wars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, it's about to get real!!

Cassian was sitting at the table with the others, and he raked a hand through his hair. “We all know it’s not ideal. But if we want to move on… It has to be done.”

“What has to be done?”

Four heads snapped up to the doorway. Nesta strut into the kitchen, not letting Azriel’s intense gaze rattle her. Cassian recovered first and waved her over.

“Hey, babe.” His hand slid around her waist as she sidled up to him. “How’s your day at the diner?”

“Alright, thank you.” He was obviously trying to distract her from whatever documents were flipped upside down. She snatched one, revealing an array of highlighted maps. She frowned, recognizing them instantly as the ones that had been hanging in Cassian’s room.

“This is for the heist, isn’t it?”

Rhysand cleared his throat. Cassian’s eyes flicked across the table to him before he nodded. “Yeah. It’s for the heist.”

Nesta stood ram-rod straight. “I thought you called it off.”

“I told him not to,” Rhysand said, trying to diffuse the tension that now wrought Nesta’s frame. “This is our last chance to get this done and over with, or else we’ll just have to stretch it out longer and longer.”

True. Summer was quickly drawing to a close, and with it there would be fewer desert gatherings and fewer… _opportunities._ She could see the logic- however warped it may be. If they wanted to get out of this- start fresh- they needed to move _now._

“But you’re still hurt,” she pointed out.

Azriel scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “For once, we agree on something.” Nesta shot him a glare, one which he returned with a sneer. Feyre, on the other hand, rose up and squared her shoulders.

“If Rhys thinks he can do it, then you shouldn’t question him. And you-“ she jabbed her finger at Azriel- “need to understand that he knows his limits.”

Wisely, he stayed quiet.

The empty chair squeaked as Nesta pulled it out and sat next to Cassian. “So you’re determined to see this through, then.” She spoke quietly enough that Cassian would know her words were intended for him, and not the others.

“Yes. Yes, we’re gonna do this. This last car… The guy’s an ass. He thrives off mom and dad’s money, totals his ride on Monday and has a shiny new toy by Friday.” Cassian shrugged like it meant nothing to him. Nesta knew that despite his indifferent appearance, he likely envied or hated someone that could afford to be so frivolous.

“So he won’t miss it, is what you’re saying.”

“Right. I mean, there’s still a chance that they’ll get the cops involved- but his parents aren’t all that clean either. They likely won’t want anyone poking around their place.”

Nesta glanced at her sister. Feyre interpreted the expression in her eyes and launched into a conversation with Rhys, giving her the relative privacy she had silently requested.

“And you promise this will be the last time?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he murmured, taking her hand and pressing it to his chest. She could feel the thump of his heartbeat, his blood pumping beneath her fingertips. She’d asked him to be honest all those weeks ago. Even when she herself remained guarded, he had opened himself up to her and let her see his darkest secrets.

“Okay,” she said, meeting his intense stare. She nodded and turned to face the others. “I’m in.”

“Uh, no.” Azriel swaggered over and steepled his fingers on the table.

Rhysand sighed and carded a hand through his raven hair. “Azriel, we’ve been over this. Nesta has earned our trust a thousand times over.”

“That still doesn’t mean that we’ll function as an effective team-“

“We’ll figure it out,” Cassian interrupted. Nesta gave his hand a grateful squeeze. “Think about it. Don’t you want this chapter of our lives to be over? If we keep this up, eventually we’ll be no better than _him.”_

Cassian’s voice was filled with such malice, and Azriel’s face so twisted with icy wrath that it left no doubts as to who the implied _he_ was.

Rhysand’s father.

Azriel surged forward, hackles bristling as he spat, “Fuck you if you think we would _ever_ become butchering bastards like him.”

“If we keep going down this road we very well might.” Cassian’s voice was teeming with rage as he stared his brother down. This conversation was spiraling quickly out of control. There was only way it would end was in a flurry of flying fists and furious insults. Nesta shot Feyre a desperate glance before breaking the tension.

“What about Elain?”

Azriel’s lethal gaze slid to Nesta, whatever insult he’d been about to let loose long forgotten. “What about her?”

Nesta waited for the rage simmering in his features to smooth over before responding.

“She needs to be with someone safe.” Her voice was softer than she’d expected. “And don’t you dare deny it- I know there’s something between you two. But if you think that I’d allow her to become tangled up in this web of thievery and felony and shadows, you’re dead wrong.”

The dark male was silent. He surveyed the stony faces of his brothers and eventually sighed sharply and yanked a chair out from the table to sit. “Fine.”

“Alright then,” Rhys said, his cheery voice at war with the tension thick in the room, “Now that that’s settled, let’s figure out the logistics.”

***************

The moon was little more than a silver sliver in the sky as Nesta parked outside the decrepit garage and cut the rumbling engine. The steady thud of a bass somewhere in the distance poured through the Charger’s half-open windows as she calmed her fraying nerves.

It was Monday night.

Tonight, Nesta’s entire life would change.

Tonight, Nesta would help steal a car.

“Hey.”

Nesta jumped, her hand instinctively curling into a fist to protect herself from the approaching figure. She relaxed as Cassian stepped into the iridescent glow of the streetlight, face tight with worry.

“You scared me, you ass.” She cranked her window down the rest of the way so Cass could fold his forearms across the frame. His face was an unreadable mask, making Nesta’s stomach churn.

“You good?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

Rattling chains split the night as Azriel hauled the garage door open, revealing Cassian’s black bullet of an Audi. They’d kept it here for the weekend, so that it was less likely to draw unwanted attention when they brought back one nearly identical to it later tonight.

Rhysand edged into the alley and jerked his chin towards the couple. Dressed in black from head to toe, he looked every inch the lethal predator that he was. Cassian stepped back to allow Nesta to step out and join them where Rhys beaconed.

A single bench lamp was lit, giving the greasy garage an eerie feel. Nesta glanced to where Azriel had strewn papers over his own car’s hood, analyzing for any threats they may have missed.

Once they had all gathered, Azriel spoke in a low voice. “Alright. Everything seems fine- I got a call that he’s still headed out to race wars tonight.”

Nesta’s heart thudded in her chest. This was really happening. There were a million ways this could go wrong, and only one narrow window of opportunity that would allow everything to go correctly. So many variables, too many things hinging on one another-

Azriel side-eyed Cassian, obviously cued into her suddenly stiff posture. Cassian took his brother’s warning and inched closer to Nesta’s side, threading their fingers together and lending her his strength. His touch was all it took to slow her racing mind. He grounded her, even when she threatened to take off and fly away from it all.

 “Let’s go over everything one last time.” Cassian squeezed her hand, reminding her to stay focused. She shook of the thoughts that haunted her and trained her attention on what he was saying.

“Rhys, you’ll be parked here-“ Cassian jabbed his finger on the spread out map. “Where Feyre will be waiting and will lend an extra set of eyes. Dead center of our route. You’ll scan the radios and make sure the rest of us stay off the grid.”

“And provide backup if needed.”

Cassian nodded solemnly. “Azriel and I will tail Nesta to here-“ he trailed his finger over a winding road to where it dead-ended in the desert- “And then it’s up to Nesta.”

“And I’ll…” She gulped, swallowing her fears. She glanced at Cassian, finding pride and confidence shining in his honey-hazel eyes. “I’ll enter the gates and find our mark, and challenge him to a race, outside the festival.”

Rhys nodded, folding his arms across his broad chest. “And he’ll accept, because we’ve learned that he’s a prideful fucker who can’t say no, especially when the challenge comes from a woman.”

The reminder of the lowlife scum who’s car they were boosting caused her anger to flare. It was a flame in her chest, white-hot and burning wild. She would not allow herself to be considered lesser simply because of her gender. No, she would knock him off his high horse and onto his ass in the dust.

“I’ll lead him out the back gate, and you two will be waiting to corner him on Mullholland Drive.” Her nerves had solidified into an iron weight in her stomach. She wouldn’t be afraid of some misogynist. This was her and her candy apple red Charger, with Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand there to back her up.

“Sounds like we know what we’re doing,” Azriel said gruffly.

“Are we ready then?” Cassian looked to Nesta, and she nodded.

Rhysand opened the door of Azriel’s Subaru and slid inside. “Let’s go, then.”

Cassian followed Nesta out to the Charger, opening the door for her. He shut it softly once she’d climbed in, leaning in through the window. With his brothers gone, he let his calm mask slip to reveal the worry beneath.

“Be careful, alright?”

“I will.” She wrapped her fingers around the supple leather of the steering wheel. “You should take your own advice, though.”

“Just remember, you really have to sell it. And once Az and I corner him, get out as quick as you can.” He thumped Bertha’s roof. “I know this dinosaur has more than enough horses under the hood to make sure you’re far enough away before anything goes wrong.”

“Don’t talk like that,” she said sharply. She couldn’t bear to think of anything happening to any of them, not to mention her sisters. Elain was safe, staying the night with Rhys’ cousin, Morrigan. Feyre on the other hand… She’d be removed from the action, but would still face some semblance of danger.

Nesta shook her head. Her sister could handle herself.

“Let’s show that asshat who’s boss.”

“That’s my fearsome Nesta.” He flashed her a half-hearted grin and pulled something from his pocket. It glinted in the moonlight as held it out to her. “Take it.”

Nesta stared at the folded switchblade in Cassian’s outstretched palm. The hilt was a brilliant black steel, reminding her of Cassian’s Audi. She gingerly took it from him, turning the cool metal over in her hands. Instinctually, she knew that one flick of her wrist would free the blade, providing her with a potential advantage over an opponent.

“I don’t know how to use it,” she said dumbly. This was the first time she’d ever even held a pocketknife, much less ever considered using one.

He touched the inside of her elbow, as well as a point closer to her wrist. “A cut there, even a shallow one, will have a man rendered useless in seconds. You know where else people are vulnerable.” He reached over and curled her fingers into a loose fist around the closed blade. “Be safe, sweetheart.”

“I will.”

 _Come back to me tonight,_ she wanted to beg him. But she didn’t; she let her eyes portray the words lodged in her throat. She knew Cassian understood by the way he kissed her cheek and whispered his love.

She watched, numb to everything else around her, as Cassian climbed into the Audi and started the engine. She touched her cheek and filed after the brothers, heading towards her inevitable fate.

If she hadn’t known any better, she’d say his kiss felt like a goodbye.

**************

The distinct rumble of hundreds of engines and custom exhausts can be heard from over a mile away. Nesta wrapped the fingers of her right hand over the gearshift as Cassian and Azriel peel away from her on the highway, leaving her alone.

As she crested the hill of the dusty desert road, she saw a line of red taillights outside a gate. That would be the registration and entrance, then. She took her time winding along the road towards it. There were a few cars she recognized- Nesta wasn’t sure if she was surprised to see her bitter rival’s ’71 Mustang among those waiting to get inside.

 _Nes?_ Cassian’s deep voice cut through the static of the multi-way radio. _You see it?_

Picking up the handheld mic, she responded: “Yeah. I see it. Thanks for warning me about all the muscle that would be here.”

Cassian loosed a throaty chuckle. _I’m sure your old girl packs ten times the punch of any of them._

“You bet your ass,” she said, the knot in her chest loosening. Cassian’s easy confidence was rubbing off.

_Keep your phone on you, alright? Call any of us of something goes wrong._

“I will.”

Static told her that Cassian had signed off. Nesta let the Charger idle as she took her place in line, waiting to pay the entrance fee like everyone else. She only grimaced a little as she handed the bouncer a wad of hundreds. Rhysand had handed it to her before they left; she hadn’t bothered to count it, but it had still been more money then she’d ever possessed.

Someone drew the number “322” on the rear glass with window marker, then thudded on the trunk. Taking that as her okay, she let the engine rev high and loud as she pulled into the festival.

Basslines battled for superiority from all sides, threading through the rows and rows of shining, waxed cars with a vengeance. It didn’t take long for her to figure out that whoever orchestrated the event had cordoned off spaces for separate classes of cars; banners hung high to declare a corner _MUSCLE_ or _IMPORT_ or _HOTROD._

Men and women alike gathered in groups around the flashy vehicles while the owners prattled off horsepower and torque statistics. Nesta rolled her eyes. It didn’t matter how fast a car could go from 0 to 60; what mattered was what risks a driver was willing to take to cross the finish line first.

And Nesta Archeron had a job to do, and she wouldn’t let anything get in her way.

Revelers gathered around one particular car as she made her way towards the back. She craned her neck as she passed, catching a glimpse of the deep blue pearlescent paint. Nesta couldn’t see the driver, but she had no doubt it was who she was looking for.

She let the shitty music drown out her nerves as she backed into a parking spot. She tucked her gifted knife in the pocket of her shorts and grabbed her phone before locking her doors.

She wove through the crowd, her sights set on the midnight blue Audi. Ignoring the jeers of _hey pretty lady, let me rev your engine,_ and worse, she carved a path towards her target. She recalled what they knew about the driver. Male, shaggy brown hair, about 5-and-a-half-foot fall, somewhere in his mid-twenties.

Nesta pressed into the crowd surrounding the Audi and elbowed her way towards the front. Their mark was leaning carelessly on the hood, the people eating out of the palm of his hand. He had his back towards her as she approached. The man practically reeked of money; his suit had been tailored by expert hands to hug his body perfectly, not a single scuff on his brown leather shoes. But it was his laugh that stopped her in her tracks.

It echoed in her ears, a tinny sound that rattled her bones. There was no mistaking the voice; it haunted her dreams at night.

As if sensing a disturbance in his fun, the man turned to her. The ground lurched beneath Nesta’s feet.

Muddy brown eyes flashed as they raked over her figure, an adder’s sharp smile cracking the man’s familiar face. Nesta’s hand flew to her mouth and she choked back a gag.

This couldn’t be happening. She’d left Colorado, come to California for a fresh start- she’d been careful not to leave a trail. Heart hammering, she begged whatever gods were listening to let this be some cruel, twisted trick.

Like a fox toying with a mouse, the man of her nightmares tipped his head to the side, assessing. “Hello, Nesta.”

She flinched at the sound of her name on his tongue. Her blood was honey in her veins; too thick for her to think straight.

“It’s been awhile.” His devilish smile grew. He was feeding off her terror, using it to his advantage. “You look good.”

“D-don’t you fucking come near me,” she said, cursing the waver in her voice. “Stay away.”

“Now now, Nesta.” Tomas Mandray clicked his tongue and took two confident steps forward, towering over her. “Is that any way to talk to your fiancé?”


	13. Fade to Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrenaline, fast cars, and freedom.
> 
> Nesta Archeron doesn’t take anyone’s shit. She loves few things in life besides her candy apple red 1969 Charger, racing, and the ocean. When a stranger in a sparkly new Audi rolls into the picture, she discovers just how quickly that can change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you nervous yet?!

"We are *not* engaged."

Nesta’s mind reeled. How had he found her? She had covered her tracks. She’d been careful not to slip up. Apparently the Mandray’s resources were far more widespread than she had thought.

"I seem to recall otherwise." Tomas slid his hands in his pockets. He stood over her like a triumphant general, staring down his battered and defeated enemy. Everything about him was the same- from the arrogant way he held himself to the shaggy, lifeless brown hair that covered the thin white scar on his forehead.

Nesta was the opposite. She couldn’t have been more different from the girl she’d been in Colorado.

Aware that they still had an audience, Nesta dropped her voice. "I broke off that engagement before I left. I could never marry you." She had to try and not be afraid. She could not allow Tomas to come back into her life and fuck everything up again.

"You never gave me a chance to talk you out of it." Though his voice was soft as he reached out to her, the thought of him touching her made bile rise in her throat.

There had been a time when Nesta had wanted- craved, even- Tomas’ touch and attention. She had been a lovesick puppy, eager to please and willing to do anything to earn his love in return. But when she’d begged him to stop and he hadn’t, something inside her had broken.

The memory of that night twisted her gut, giving her the strength to shove his hand away.

"Don't *fucking* touch me, Tomas." Her hands were shaking. She was utterly terrified; he'd overpowered her before, and she was sure he could do it again. But she had to stay on track- her family and friends were depending on her.

“You need to let me explain,” he said, the glint in his eye indicative of his rising temper. “I still love you, Nesta. And I am still your fiancée, so you will do as I say.”

She pressed her lips together to keep herself from saying something she would regret and buy herself time to think. Maybe she could spin this to her advantage. Clearly, Tomas was still as deranged as he had been when she'd left him. And if he still loved her... He'd do nearly anything to get her back.

"You're right," Nesta said, swallowing the nausea that rose with the words. "I never gave you a chance to make things right." She looked at her shoes, and this time didn't flinch when he brushed his knuckles over her cheek. The same knuckles that now caressed her had also bruised her; memories she'd tried to leave behind.

“How do I know I can trust you?”

Brow furrowed, Nesta risked a glance up at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve tricked me before,” he said, the pad of his thumb rubbing across her chin. “How do I know you’re being truthful with me now?”

“I want to talk,” she gritted out, “I want to work this out. I want- I want to come home.” Each word felt like razor blades on her tongue.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I…” Nesta swallowed hard. They were just words, she reminded herself, they didn’t have to mean anything. “I love you, Tomas.”

"Good girl,” he purred, and Nesta’s blood turned to fire in her veins. She balled her hands into fists behind her as he leaned back against the hood and opened his arms to her. “Now, come over here and let's talk-"

"Not here," Nesta blurted, and Tomas froze. Belatedly, she remembered he hated being interrupted; something she had learned that the hard way. He didn't dare cause a scene here in public though, not when he had a reputation to uphold. Instead, he gave her a tight-lipped smile.

"Your house, then?"

No way in hell would she willingly lead this stalker to her home. And she still had a job to finish.

"I was thinking..." she stepped back, keeping her eyes lowered, painting herself as the cowering rabbit and letting Tomas play the part of the wolf. "Maybe we could race?"

Tomas' sharp, mocking laughter grated her eardrums. "You want _to race?_ Do you even know how to drive that thing?" He jerked his chin at the Charger.

The Charger, which had been Nesta's entire life when she moved to California. The Charger, which she knew better than she knew herself. Nesta and her car were one being, moving in complete tandem when she was behind the wheel.

Could she _drive?_ Nesta had to fight back her grin. Of fucking _course_ she could drive.

Tomas was a damned fool for thinking otherwise.

"I can drive well enough," she said softly. "And while my old hunk of junk-" she fought back a wince- "won't stand a chance against your car, I'd be glad if you let me try."

"Anything for you, Nessie." Tomas' smile showed his perfect white teeth. Nesta thought it would have been more fitting if they were pointed and serrated, the kind that cut through bone. Then they would fit well with his shark-like personality.

She smiled though, the small kind that barely grazed her lips that she knew Tomas preferred. The sort that made her look like weak, easy prey.

Little did he know that there was an unrelenting storm building within her, soon to be unleashed upon him. No longer was she a helpless lamb, awaiting slaughter at his hands. She’d learned to take the terror running in her veins and turn it into a weapon, learned how to lie and deceive and hurt.

He didn’t stand a chance.

“I’d like for it to be outside of our current venue, if that’s alright.” She schooled her expression into one of innocence. When he didn’t look convinced, she added, “So we can talk afterwards, without spectators.”

“Alright.” He shrugged, the still-gathered crowd parting as he backed towards his vehicle. “Lead the way.”

Nesta nodded meekly and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, starting for her own. She forced herself to turn her back to him, though every instinct screamed not to let him out of her sight. She had to make him believe she trusted him.

"Oh, and Nesta?"

She looked over her shoulder. "Yes?"

Shadows swirled in Tomas' cruel eyes. "Don't play any games."

***************

All she needed to do was make it out to Mullholland Drive, and she would be safe. Cassian and Azriel wouldn't let anything happen to her, she told herself.

Even still, she couldn't quench the fear that rose in her chest. It clawed it's way to the surface as she thundered down the desert road, the headlights of Tomas' Audi flashing in her rearview with each dip in pavement.

Nesta wasn't religious in the least, but she prayed that he wouldn't catch onto her plan. If he did… Heaven help her.

She flicked on her turn signal and headed onto Highway 1, watching as Tomas did the same behind her. Her heart was a staccato drum, beating out a choppy, nervous rhythm. Her palms were slick with sweat, and one by one she wiped them on her shorts.

The boys needed to know what they were up against. They had prepared for a stuck up, snobby rich kid that wouldn't put up much of a fight. But Tomas... He was an entirely different animal, prone to violent outbursts and fits of rage rather than toddler-like tantrums. He wouldn't stand a chance when faced with Cass and Az, but they still deserved a warning. The radio was too risky, when Tomas could spot her reaching for it and grow suspicious.

And that was the *last* thing she wanted.

As casually as she could, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and rested it on her thigh. She scrolled through her contacts and dialed his number, putting it on speaker. Cassian answered on the second ring.

"Sweetheart? What's wrong?"

"Cass, listen, I haven't got much time." Her eyes flicked to her mirror; Tomas was still on her tail. She’d need to make this as quick as possible. "Tomas Mandray is our mark."

"Tomas? Who?"

Nesta took a deep breath. "He... Hurt me. Back in Colorado."

Cassian was deathly silent. She fidgeted in her seat, the vinyl sticking to her thighs. She could practically feel the tension through the line as Cassian’s mind tried to puzzle the pieces of her past together. She waited as long as she could before prodding, "Cass? Are you still there?"

"I'm here."

"Say something, then." The silence was eating her alive.

"Did he touch you?" The sheer hatred in his words struck her. She was half tempted to lie, but why should she? Tomas didn't deserve any form of protection from her, not after everything he'd done to her.

"Yes," she said softly. "I let him touch my cheek so I could convince him to come with me."

"You're in your car? He's following you?"

"Yes. He's... He's right behind me."

"Are you going to be able to get him to Mullholland?"

"I think so." It would be a challenge, but she could do it. "I'm on Highway 1 now."

A pause before he spoke again, "I'll kill him."

Goosebumps rose on Nesta’s skin. "Cass, don't.”

"Why the hell not?” He growled, and Nesta’s grip on the phone tightened. “He hurt you, Nes, he *touched* you-"

"Please don't."

It wasn't that he didn't deserve it. She didn't love him anymore, and there was no reason for her to care whether Tomas lived or died. Cassian was supposed to be _leaving_ this criminal life though, not digging himself into a deeper hole. Killing Tomas could only do more harm than good.

"Fine," Cassian said finally. "I won't, not unless I'm provoked."

"Thank you." Nesta blew out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I should be at the rendezvous in about ten minutes, be prepared. Tomas can get violent when you take what he thinks is his."

Nesta hoped Cassian would read the double meaning in her words.

"We'll be ready and waiting. Talk to you soon."                                                                                        

The line went dead, and Nesta tossed her phone to the seat beside her. A few minutes later, they were on Mullholland Drive, and she only needed to lure Tomas another mile before Cassian and Azriel could step in.

Nesta took the next hairpin turn much faster than she should have. Tires squealed and gravel pinged against the Charger's pristine body, but she kept control. And there, nestled in the shadows of the shoulder, was Azriel’s Subaru. Nesta slowed as she passed, momentarily locking eyes with Azriel through his open window. His normally collected exterior was forgone in favor of barely contained disgust. Nesta knew it wasn't directed at her though. Cassian, sitting in the passenger seat, had undoubtedly passed along the news, probably giving him the bare bones details of what she’d told him.

Tomas swung around seconds later, and Azriel's lights flicked on. As he peeled out after them, Nesta's grip tightened on the steering wheel. It all came down to this.

Moment of truth.

Nesta slammed on her brakes, careening sideways to block the road. All three cars skidded to a stop, Tomas' car barely coming out unscathed. They’d trapped him between the cliffs on the right and rocky valley to the left. He had nowhere to go. Nesta couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in her ears, which continued even after she’d cut the engine.

Cassian was already ripping Tomas out of his Audi by the time Nesta unbuckled and ran to meet them. She watched as Cassian grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the hood, dragging him around like a weightless rag doll. Tomas struggled to break free of his grip but was no match for Cassian’s superior strength and size.

"Get the fuck off of me- do you know who I fucking am?"

"I know *exactly* who you are," Cassian growled, pinning the skinnier man to the hood with a hand at his throat. 

"Then you know what will happen if you hurt me-"

"I don't give a shit what happens to me." Cassian dug in his pocket with his free hand, producing a gleaming blade.

"No, Cass don't!" Azriel flung his arm out, preventing Nesta from getting too close. Tomas stopped struggling as Cassian held it up, moonlight glinting off the polished metal.

"You hurt Nesta," Cassian said, brushing the tip of his knife over Tomas' cheekbone. He jerked away, causing a thin red line to well on his skin. "I should hurt you, too."

"Fuck you," Tomas spat, but his voice shook. He was scared, terrified even, of the powerful male holding him down.

Oh, it felt *good* to see him in her shoes for once.

Nesta shoved Azriel away. "Cassian."

He stilled, but gave no other indication he'd heard as she came to stand at his shoulder and held out her hand.

"Give me the knife."

“Now you’re really in trouble, Mandray.” Cassian’s focus remained on Tomas, his feral grin sending a shiver down Nesta’s spine as he handed over the knife without protest. Cassian kept Tomas pinned down but moved aside so she could come forward.

The dark knife was heavy in her hand, the tip already wet with a spot of Tomas’ blood. She regarded it closely in the light of the headlights, weighing her options.

She could end it all right here.

All her suffering. Nothing would haunt her anymore.

One swift swipe, and it would all be over. No one would speak of it again.

“Go ahead, Nesta.” Azriel’s voice was fuzzy in her ears. “We know how to cover it up.” With their ties to the mob back east, Nesta had no doubt they knew how to dispose of a body quickly and efficiently. They were letting her decide Tomas’ fate.

“Nesta, baby please, don’t do this.” Tomas’s wailing pleas broke her stupor and she glanced up at him. “Put it away, we can go home and-“

The boy was undeserving of mercy, this she knew. How many other girls had he victimized since her? His parents were untouchable. He could do whatever he wanted and get away without so much as a slap on the wrist.

Here was her chance to make him pay.

Nesta stepped forward and pressed the tip of the blade to his chest, directly above his heart. He sputtered an apology like the coward he was, afraid of what she would do. Nesta tipped her head to the side and said in a voice as sweet as honey, “Do you love me, Tomas?”

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes wide and pleading. “Let me go and we can go back to Colorado, get married, have a couple little kids-“

Nesta nudged Cassian’s hip with hers. He took the hint and removed his hand from the monster’s neck, and Nesta stood between Tomas’ knees.

“Oh yeah?” Her mouth curved into a smile, but she didn’t remove the knife. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I would.” Tomas’ eyes flicked nervously to the knife. “If you let me go, I’ll forget this ever happened. We can be happy again.”

“I was never happy with you,” she spat, pressing harder with the knife. Satisfaction swelled when crimson bloomed across his white dress shirt. “And I never will be.”

“Please-“

“Here’s how this is going to go, Tomas. You’re going to agree to generously _give_ us your car, and the three of us are going to walk away unscathed. If not…” she dug the blade deeper, felt it grate against bone, and Tomas wailed in pain. He always was such a baby.

“Why-why do you want my car?”

“You’re not really in a position to be asking questions,” Rhysand chimed in. Nesta hadn’t heard him arrive, too focused on the predator-turned-prey at the other end of her weapon. Knowing that there were now four people to back her up gave her even more confidence, as did the hand Cassian placed on the small of her back.

“So you’re going to let the five of us drive away with your pretty little car, and you’re not going to report it to the police. And then you’re going to go back to that dingy little town in the mountains, and you will _never_ touch another person against their will. If you do, or if you try to involve the law- or anyone else for that matter- I’ll have you arrested for rape.” She spread her hands wide, indicating those behind her. “And I’ve got four witnesses to corroborate my story.”

But her threats weren’t enough for Cassian, it seemed, who snarled, “And then I’ll find you and shred you to ribbons for what you’ve done to Nesta. The world would be a better place without scum like you. The only reason you’re still breathing is because she told me not to hurt you.”

Tomas swallowed hard. “You’re going to regret this, Nesta.” He slid out from under her grip, and she let him. She tapped the bloodied blade to her chin thoughtfully as he scrambled away. He stumbled and fell against the guardrail, which shuddered under his weight.

“I really don’t think I will.”

Tomas’ eyes flicked around, no doubt memorizing the faces of the three men and two women now threating him within an inch of his life. A scarred man that clung to the shadows like water, a crisp and fearless leader, Nesta’s unflinching sister, Nesta herself, and the most threatening of all: Cassian. The one who would never let anyone or anything harm Nesta ever again. The one who she trusted with her heart, mind, and soul, and would forever watch over and protect it.

She wasn’t alone.

Nothing could touch her.

Nesta held out her hand, and Tomas stared at it. “Keys,” she demanded.

He wiped his sleeve over his bloody cheek before digging them out of his pocket and dropping them in her palm. “I’d watch your back if I were you.” Gone was his previous cowardice, once again replaced with his arrogant façade.

The grin that spread across Nesta’s face was nothing short of wicked. “We’ll see about that.” Turning on her heel, she tossed Cassian the keys to the Charger. “I’ll take the Audi.”

“You’re the most badass woman I know,” Cassian murmured, his eyes sparking with pride. The others had retreated to stand by their respective vehicles, still monitoring the situation from afar but giving the two some semblance of privacy.

“I know I am.” Nesta reached up on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She took a step back towards the Audi- a step in the wrong direction. “See you at home?”

Cassian’s grin morphed into something else as his face blanched, a strangled sound escaping him as he reached for her. Nesta didn’t have time to process Tomas swinging the short length of pipe in her direction before pain exploded across the side of her skull.

And Nesta’s world crumbled into black nothingness.


	14. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I think this will be the last chapter. Unless a lot of you are interested in me continuing???? Let me know!

“Nesta? Nesta, can you hear me?”

Nesta cracked her eyes open to see her youngest sister leaning over her against a starry backdrop. The light of the moon pierced her eyes, and she squeezed them shut again. Asphalt dug into her elbows, rubbing them raw. Shrill screams caused her head to throb, her ears ringing after the voice was silenced.

“Hurts,” she mumbled, dragging her arm up to where the lancing pain shot across her scalp. Her hair was wet, her fingers coated red when she looked at them. Nesta’s fear was a lead weight in her chest. She wasn’t a doctor, but she knew that this much blood wasn’t a good thing.

“Nes! Oh, shit baby, can you hear me?”

Nesta whined as calloused fingers flew over her face, assessing for injuries other than the glaringly obvious. Everything hurt, from the tips of her toes to her eyes to her teeth. She didn’t want to move. All she wanted to do was sleep.

“Fey, help me get her to the car.” Arms looped under her armpits.

“But Tomas-“

“Is taken care of,” Cassian snapped. Nesta wanted to tell him to stop being such an ass but couldn’t find the words. “Help me get her home, or she’s gonna be in trouble.”

Her consciousness was fading, but she was aware of her sister grasping her feet and being jostled into the back seat of a car.

“Don’t let her fall asleep,” Feyre ordered, and Nesta’s brows drew together. “If she falls asleep, she could stop breathing.” All she wanted to do was sleep, why wouldn’t her sister let her? She hurt so badly… Sleep would numb everything and let her forget for awhile.

“I won’t.” Strong hands cradled her body to a warm, familiar chest. Something wet splashed onto her cheek. “Stay with me, Nes. I can’t lose you.”

Cassian kept her awake, annoying her the entire way to their destination. His words buzzed in Nesta’s ears, but she was too out of it to comprehend what he said. She whimpered when Feyre took a turn too fast; her brain rattling around in her skull.

Finally, _finally,_ the car jolted to a stop and she was once again hauled out. A commanding female voice barked out orders, and Nesta was lowered onto a hard surface. She kept her eyes screwed shut even when the IV was inserted into her arm, and she was at last allowed to fall under the pain-free blanket of unconsciousness.

***************

Pain thudded sharply in Nesta’s head. Everything was fuzzy and her eyelids felt like lead when she tried to open them. Why did everything hurt? Why couldn’t she move her mouth and form words? She couldn’t remember what happened.

After a minute, she managed a weak whimper. Everything hurt, her throat was drier than the Sahara, and she needed water. The scent of alcohol remined her of a hospital, but the lack of beeping monitors threw her. Her heart raced at her lack of knowledge.

“Nesta?”

She knew that voice, at least, and her clenched fists relaxed. She didn’t need sight to know that it was Cassian. She licked her lips, but even that small of a movement caused her head to throb.

“Don’t move, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, his warm hand closing over hers. She hadn’t even realized how cold she was until his blazing skin touched hers.

“Water,” she rasped, her throat feeling like sandpaper. A straw touched her parched lips, and she raised her head and drank greedily. Finished, she lay back against the pillows and sighed.

“Where am I?“ she croaked, opening her eyes a sliver. Someone had closed the shades, a fact that she was utterly grateful for, as she knew that any light would intensify her agony.

“You’re at my apartment,” Cassian said, his thumb stroking across the inside of her wrist. Nesta’s gaze wandered throughout the dark space. She didn’t recognize the room, but she noticed the worry written on his face. His hair was disheveled and pulled back from his face, a clear indicator he hadn’t showered recently. The split lip and slightly blackened eye weren’t easy to miss, either.

He looked like hell.

“I know what you’re thinking, and I’m fine.” Cassian shot her his trademark crooked grin. “It’s yourself you should be worried about. Mor fixed you up the best she could- she’s a pediatric surgeon, you know- but she said you’d still need time to heal.”

“What happened? How did you get hurt?” She asked, struggling to sit up. Spots danced in her peripheral, but still she fought to rise. Cassian was on his feet in less than a second, pushing her right back down.

“Mor said you need rest, and that you shouldn’t try to move too quickly or you could make it worse.”

Sure enough, a wave of nausea washed over her. “Woah,” she murmured, her vision swimming. “What’s going on? And who’s Mor?”

“Mor is Rhys’ cousin, remember?” Cassian shifted in his seat. “Elain stayed the night with her before…”

“Before this.” She motioned to her head, giving a half-smile. “You can say it. I think it’s pretty obvious that everything went to shit.”

“Right.” Cassian squeezed her hand. Nesta studied the lines of his face as he chewed on his lip, a bead of blood forming over the re-opened cut. She watched as his tongue flicked out to hide the evidence, a moment too late.

“Who hurt you?” She asked quietly. He smiled tightly, a false bravado.

“Do you remember what happened last night?”

Allowing his digression, Nesta strained her mind for memory of the source of her pain. She remembered gearing up for the hit, talking to Cassian over her radio as she entered the desert raceway. Beyond that… Nothing.

“I was talking to you when I entered the show. I got through the gate, and then… I don’t remember.”

Cassian frowned, deep wrinkles lining his forehead as his brows knit together. He was clearly distracted, his mind wandering elsewhere than this room. His physical condition still worried her, almost as much as his mental health did. She knew he was blaming himself for whatever happened.

“Quit moping and come lay with me, will you?” She said, trying her best to sound cross. In reality, she was scared out of her wits and needed his comforting warmth. His eyes widened, and he took a few moments before responding.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.“

“Oh come on.” Nesta rolled her eyes and meekly patted the sheets next to her. “This bed is big enough for us both. Get over here and tell me why my head hurts so bad.”

Cassian sighed, but did as he was told, mumbling under his breath as he did so. Nesta deciphered some of his grumbles as he climbed in; something about her being “stubborn” and “a pain in his ass.”

Once he was settled next to her, Nesta’s tension began to leech away. Her pain had subsided somewhat now that she could steady herself with his presence. “So explain.”

“Do you remember seeing Tomas?” He asked quietly.

Nesta shook her head. Clearing his throat, Cassian carefully launched into the tale, relaying the night’s events with varying level of detail. Flashes of memory came back as he spoke- her ex’s leering smile and the way he’d touched her cheek. Her panicked call to Cassian when she’d turned onto Highway 1. Meeting them at the top of the ridge…

“And then… He hit you with the pipe.” Cassian’s voice cracked, along with her heart. “It must have been laying on the side of the road or something. I didn’t even notice it until it was too late.”

A single tear rolled down his cheek. Nesta ached to wipe it away, but her arm was too heavy to move. Instead, she settled for squeezing his hand with as much strength as she could muster.

“Did we at least get the car?”

Cassian laughed, swiping his thumb over his cheek and smiling through his tears. “Yeah, don’t worry sweetheart. We got the car.”

“At least I didn’t almost die for nothing then,” she said. A poor attempt at humor, and one not well received, judging by the tense silence that followed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him in time.” Cassian turned away, ashamed with himself. Nesta slowly put the pieces together though: his split lip, the black and blue knuckles, and the way he’d deliberately left out what had happened to Tomas after she’d blacked out.

If she didn’t convince him otherwise, he would forever shoulder the weight of the blame.

“If I had to guess, I’d say that you took care of him afterwards. That’s more than enough.” Nesta gave him a half-smile.

Cassian frowned. “Rhys and Az had to practically scrape the pieces of him off the pavement when I was through. They shipped his sorry ass back to Colorado, with a promise to not be so merciful should he ever return or try to press charges.”

Nesta could almost feel the crunch of bone beneath her knuckles as if they were Cassian’s own. When she closed her eyes, she could almost see the red that tinged his vision as he beat Tomas to a pulp for what he had done to her. She could feel the anger, blazing within her core, demanding he make the bastard pay.

Blood for blood.

“Do you think he’ll come back again?”

“Not if he ever wants to walk again,” Cassian said plainly. Nesta flinched at the cold that seeped through his tone. The words didn’t even phase him. He just continued to stare at the wall like it held the answers to all their problems.

Nesta swallowed thickly. “You didn’t have to do that,” she rasped. No one had ever defended her from the bastard back in Colorado. She’d had no one, and hadn’t told anyone what he’d done, either. Her father had been over the moon when Tomas announced their engagement and had said again and again how happy he was that she’d found a respectable man to marry. She knew that he was actually thankful for the money he would undoubtedly give to him to fund his alcohol addiction.

“No, I didn’t.” Cassian picked at the blanket, avoiding her gaze. It was almost as if he regretted stepping in on her behalf. The way he was withdrawing… Nesta had seen it before, with the few other people she’d opened up to after everything.

Her heart sunk. This was it- this was the part where he realized how much of a basket case she was and broke up with her. He’d take back his confessions of love and all the promises he’d made and dump her out on the street as soon as she was able to walk, maybe even sooner.

Tears built unbidden in Nesta’s eyes, and she snapped them shut to push them back. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t reveal how much she had grown to depend on Cassian over the short time she’d known him.

“But I’d do it all over again if it meant keeping you from getting hurt.” Cassian’s eyes were a fiery shade of hazel when she looked at him. “I’d endure twice as many stitches as I got in order to keep you from harm.”

“You’ve got stitches?” She asked, sniffling as her stomach untwisted. Cassian wasn’t going to leave her. He wasn’t like Tomas, as he’d proven time and time again. She exhaled slowly, calming herself.

“Just a few.” He rolled up his sleeve, showing her the wide slash on the inside of his bicep. “You’ve got more than I do, though.”

“ _I_ have stitches?” Confused, Nesta reached up to feel for the wound under her hair.

Her fingers met no long, luscious locks at her scalp. Instead, she found short, quarter-inch long hair on the side of her head.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. Her fingers trembled as she skirted them over the rest of her head. The long hair that she had loved so much was completely gone. The beautiful, golden locks that she had taken for granted. Dumbly, she regretted not styling it as often as she could, now that it was gone.

“Mor said she had to shave it in order to make sure there wasn’t anything else wrong,” Cassian said softly. “I’m sorry. I know you’re probably upset-“

“Upset?” She barked out a laugh that made her lungs ache. She was more than upset. Tomas had once again stolen something precious from her. The loss of her hair was the last straw. Nesta’s chin wobbled and she broke into a sob, surprising herself and Cassian.  She gripped his shirt in her fist as best she could.

“I loved him,” she sobbed, completely vulnerable. “I loved him once, and he betrayed me. He hurt me, and I let him hurt me, again and again and again.”

Cassian carefully cradled her to his chest. “He didn’t love you, Nesta. No one that truly loves you would ever hurt you. _I_ would never hurt you.”

Sniffling, she whispered, “I know you wouldn’t. You’re not like him.”

“If it helps, I actually think you rock the short hair.”

Once more, her fingers touched the fuzziness. “You’re only saying that to make me feel better.”

“It looks good on you.”

Nesta turned her tear-stained face up to gaze upon his brilliant smile. “You mean it?” She asked, and he nodded. Somehow, that _did_ comfort her. At least Tomas hadn’t ruined the love that Cassian had for her. Cassian held her as she quieted, her mind whirring with the overload of information she’d obtained in a few short minutes.

”Hey, Nes?” His deep voice broke the silence “I have a crazy idea.”

“What is it?” Her brow furrowed. She clenched a weak fist in his shirt, trying to sort out the possibilities of what he’d ask.

“Marry me,” he breathed, searching her face. “Be my wife, Nesta.”

Nesta blinked. “I think whatever pain meds I’m on are going to my head,” she said, laughing awkwardly. She couldn’t have heard him right. “What did you say?”

“You heard me damn well,” He said, grasping her hands with a giddy smile. “Nesta Archeron, will you marry me?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She was dreaming. She _had_ to be.

Cassian had fought for her time and time again. He’d proven that his love for her ran soul-deep. He’d placed her safety above his own and stood up for her when she herself couldn’t.

There wasn’t another man she could ever imagine spending her life with.

“Gods Cassian, yes.” Despite everything, her laugh was full of joy. She felt weightless, like she could lift off the sheets and her happiness would suspend her mid-air.

“You mean it?” His eyes shone and he kissed the tip of her nose. “I can’t believe you agreed. I don’t have a ring- but I suppose I’ll have the money to buy one now, thanks to you. When can we tell everyone? Do you wanna keep it to ourselves until you are better or can we tell them now-“

“Cass, shhh.” His voice had risen with his excitement. “You’re making my head hurt again.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, softly pressing his lips to her chapped ones. “I just-I can’t believe it.”

With effort, Nesta reached up to stroke the curve of his jaw. “That you, my handsome warrior heart, are going to marry a concussed woman who can barely lift her hand?”

That remark earned her a chuckle that lit her entire body on fire. “I love you, Nesta,” he whispered, delicately cupping her face in his hands. “I love you more than anything in this entire world."

“I love you too,” she whispered back. Suddenly her head didn’t seem to hurt as much, and her lack of hair didn’t phase her. Despite everything, she smiled. “I can’t wait to wake up to your ugly mug every day.”

Cassian’s roaring laughter was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

She didn’t care what anyone would say about her future husband. Because for her, Cassian would turn those bruised knuckles to the sky and say _fuck ‘em all._ They were broken and battered, but they had each other. The only thing that mattered was their love for each other, borne out of blood and forever cemented by the sultry roar of an engine.

Cassian closed his eyes and rest his forehead on hers. She breathed him in; the oil, sweat, and blood. She’d never get enough.

“ _Nothing_ will ever tear us apart.”


End file.
